#another year gone by without it and it's weighing heavy. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

knightjpg · 5 months ago

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Brick by Brick

And like a dog who's learned a new trick Simon rings your bell the next day. Wasn't happy with how he left it, and wasn't that faucet leaking? He's got plenty of spare wood in his shed, don't you worry. What's that about the boiler making a weird noise? He'll take a look at it, might have something for the draft in the hallway too. Pay him? What are you talking about, he does stuff like this for fun. Don't sweat it, love. Just hand him that wrench.

tags: construction worker simon/neighbour reader

part 1 | part 2

Summer is the worst time of year for construction work outside. Up early before the birds are awake to try and beat the heat, arriving on site at six or earlier with bleary eyes and creaky joints from the day before. It means coming home at four or five with lots of day left to get through yet without the will or energy to do anything beside shower, eat, watch some telly, and sleep.

The pay is good and it beats sitting in a cramped office all day, but when Simon gets home with aching knees and the thrum of a headache at the back of his skull it's hard to remember why on Earth he chose the career he's in. He's drenched in sweat, large dark patches adorning his pits and back.

It's one of those days where very little can make him stray from his commute straight to home to collapse into his big falling-apart chair, but today it's not really up to him. A large moving truck blocks his driveway. The faded company logo against dirty white overtakes the entire view of his windshield, though Simon can see the back doors are still swung open. No one to attend to it, though.

Simon noticed the FOR SALE! sign had gone, of course. Remembers feeling vaguely pleased, even, that the home next to his wouldn't be empty anymore, because he of all people knows exactly how quickly places can fall apart without anyone tending to it. But right now all he feels is tired, and hot, and really fucking annoyed. Just when he's clicked his belt loose to get out of the car and see if the dolt belonging to the truck is anywhere to be found, voices carry from the open front door.

“...last. I'm afraid it's a little heavy, though, so maybe we should get the boxes out first?”

And out steps the sweetest little thing he's ever seen. Hair tied up, tight little top, and shorts that give him ample view of your legs.

Maybe summer's not so bad after all.

You're talking to a bloke wearing a uniform that matches the moving truck and who looks flushed in the face from exertion. As soon as you clock Simon's car, though, you stop mid-sentence in surprise, and then quickly walk to him, brows furrowed apologetically.

“Oh, I'm so sorry—you're trying to get past us, aren't you?” Simon gives you a nod, and you turn back to the mover. “Would you mind moving the truck up a little? I don't want it to be in the way.”

There's precious little parking space ahead, so Simon rolls down his window and calls out to you, “Jus’ backing up a few yards s’fine.” He gestures to his driveway so you know that's where he's headed, and you flash him a smile and a thumbs-up in understanding.

The truck is moved, Simon parks his car, and you pull another heavy-looking box from the cube. You never reach your new doorstep with it; Simon steps in and lifts it from your hands. You blink up at him, lashes fluttering sweetly with surprise. “Oh—are you sure? It's heavy...!”

One corner of Simon's mouth tugs up. Tired as he is it weighs next to nothing, and he can't resist holding it with one arm, holding out the other.

“Can take ‘nother if you need.”

You laugh and assure him this is quite enough, then jog back to the truck while Simon pushes past the half-open door to his new neighbour's home.

It's a mess, of course. Piles of boxes, scattered furniture, rolled-up carpets. Simon puts the box down in the living room, then saunters back outside to lift another from your hands. He does the same with the couch; the mover is struggling and Simon doesn't trust him not to let it fall and crash. And you're such a little thing. Just doesn't feel right, watching you rush around and struggle without stepping in.

With Simon's help it's quick work. The mover thanks Simon before driving off, but he's not really listening. There's much more important things to pay attention to.

You're pretty. Cheeks flushed from exertion, breathing hard, flyaway hairs from your ponytail sticking up in odd directions. Simon has to suppress the urge to smooth them away.

"Thanks so much for the help,” you tell him earnestly. “I'm sorry we were in the way—we thought we'd have a little more time before people started coming home from work.”

“S’alright,” Simon says. It's nearing evening, now, the sky above you glowing in pale pink and oranges hues. The little smatter of trees across from you rustles with a gust of summer wind.

You introduce yourself and insist on giving Simon your number “in case there's ever anything you need.” Simon's more concerned about a young woman living all on her own but takes your number all the same, watching your pretty little fingers tap it in on his phone.

“I mostly work from home, but I'm very quiet and boring,” you tell him with a smile. “You don't have to worry about noise.”

For some reason that isn't the selling point it should be. When Simon stands inside his hallway, house empty and dark and quiet, he wishes he still lived in a shitty apartment with thin walls on the bad side of Manchester. Maybe then he'd hear your footsteps, or better yet, your voice. Instead the only thing waiting for him at home is silence. Heavy and thick, where he's ripped away from sweet sunshine and plunged underwater.

Simon is halfway to falling asleep on the couch when the bell rings. He groans, drags a hand over his face, and glances up at the TV. The football match is still going. The camera pans over a cheering crowd, their cries distant and quiet.

He mutes the thing entirely and heaves himself up to open the door. Swear to God, if this is the fucking salesman again...

“Hi there.”

You give Simon a little finger wave, your other hand cradling a round oven dish. When you shift on your feet the protective foil on top rustles noisily.

You look a little more put together than you did yesterday—rested, showered, fed. Just as pretty.

Although, speaking of fed...

“Alright?” Simon asks, eyes on the oven pan. He's only catching a faint whiff of something, but whatever it is smells really fucking good. His stomach reminds him that the only thing in his fridge are a couple cans of beer.

You nod and lift the dish with a shy little grin. “Yeah. Um. I wanted to say thanks again, for yesterday. And I wanted to test out my oven, so...”

You hold the dish out for him to take. Simon's fingers brush yours, large meaty paws easily twice the size of your own. When he peels back the foil you add, “Shepherd's pie. I thought about cookies, but I wasn't sure if you'd like those.”

The scent hits him, then, rich and hearty and buttery smooth. The dish is still a little warm.

Fuck. When was the last time he ate something homemade?

“No, I'll eat anything,” he says, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. He hasn't showered yet. Must look a nightmare. Does he stink? “Thanks.”

Your whole face lights up, and Simon's neck feels hot. He averts his eyes to avoid your gaze and pretends to inspect the pie instead. Jesus, what is he, twelve? “I'm glad. I'll leave you to it, then.”

D’you want to come in for a drink?

It's on the tip of his tongue, but he can't get the words out quite right and gives you a brusque nod, watching you walk back to your own home before closing his door all the way.

He eats at his kitchen table and finishes the whole thing in one go. Chases bits of flakey crust with his finger, licks up every leftover crumb. The meat is tender and juicy and for a while after the only things he smells is golden-brown potatoes seasoned with rosemary.

He mourns it when it's gone, of course. Has half a mind to go over right now and ask if your cooking is for hire—Simon can't remember the last time he felt satisfied. When he ate not just for the sake of fuel or convenience but because someone wanted him to have something nice, something special. Is it special? Is he special? Are you going around the neighbourhood handing out cookies and pies to just anyone?

Simon's sigh is loud in the silence and sticks to the kitchen walls.

The pre-made frozen meals are fine, of course. Empty plastic containers fill up the rubbish bin. They're easy and cheap and most days Simon's glad just to have something warm in his stomach.

And yet.

The next day Simon stands at your door at six in the evening sharp, holding the clean dish in his hands. You invite him in for a cup of tea, because unlike him you have good manners, and you sheepishly apologise for the stacks of boxes everywhere.

“S’alright,” Simon says, carefully manoeuvring around a large pile of books. “I don't mind.”

And he doesn't, though he does feel like a bull in a china shop. Large and much too coarse for the little tea cup you hand him while the kettle whistles on the stove.

“I'm afraid I don't have much to go with it,” you say with a flutter of your hands. “Do you like ginger snaps? I think I've got a pack somewhere.”

You don't wait for his answer and pry open one of the cupboards. First come the ginger snaps, then the box of Earl Grey, which you hold up to him with a triumphant smile. “Unpacked the important stuff first.”

Simon frowns and jerks his chin to the cupboard. “S’it stuck?”

“Oh—yeah. They all are.” You give the wood a little knock. “It'll take me some time to get to fixing everything. The house went for a good price, but only ‘cause it needs some love.” You give him a rueful smile and get up, wiping your hands on your thighs. “I'm not all that handy, so I'll have to take it bit by bit.”

Simon rises before you finish your sentence. "Let me see.”

“Oh, no, it's okay. It's not a big deal, really—”

Simon crouches down, slowly, to spare his knees, and tests the hinges. The wood is rotten in certain places, the hinges old and rusted. Rather than fixing it up it should be replaced entirely. You really better had gotten this place for good money, because this will take more than a bit of elbow grease to repair. He prods at the hinges, tuts, and looks up at you.

“Ready to fall apart, this one. You said they're all like this?”

You nod, worry creasing your brow. “I—yes. Well, the kitchen is. The bathroom seems alright. Is it worse than I thought?”

“Might be. You have anyone look at this?”

You shake your head. “I'm starting to feel silly about it now, but I was going to look up how to do it myself.”

Simon straightens. “I'll go get my kit.”

It's not as bad as he feared. Two cabinets need tearing down completely, but the others are worth saving. Simon warns you the repair job will fuck the wood, but you tell him it's no problem; you'll paint over it anyway.

You feed him tea and ginger snaps while he works, asking him several times if he wouldn't like a break, hasn't he done a lot already? You feel terrible about having him work on his day off. Didn't he say he worked construction? He must be so tired, poor man. You insist he stay for dinner. “You've been so helpful—it's the least I could do.”

Simon takes a breather to watch you cook. Chicken, pasta, summer salad. The sun sinks lower and hits you straight on from the kitchen window, painting the edges of you a dazed red-gold. An angel's halo.

“You big on reading, then?”

You turn down the heat and put a lid over the pan to join him at the table. Simon's eyeing the many books strewn about on top of boxes that say “pans” and “kitchen supplies”. Le Morte D’Arthur. Histories of the Kings of Britain. Beowulf. There's even one that prompts a vague, long-forgotten memory from his school days— The Canterbury Tales.

“I am. Always have been.” You nod to the books. “I teach at university—medieval literature. But I'm working on my own research on the side.”

Simon lets out a low whistle. His pretty bird is a clever one. Smarter than him, that's for sure. He might be big and strong but he's got bricks for brains.

That's what his dad always used to say, anyway—that he's stupid. Those always were his kinder moments.

“That explains all the books y’got.”

“There sure are a lot of them, aren't there? I swear moving really makes you realise just how much stuff you own...” You shake your head. “I'll have to get a bigger bookcase.”

“Think it's impressive.”

Your eyes crinkle with a smile. “Not as impressive as knowing how to fix my cabinets! I don't know how I would've managed by myself.” You hop up from your seat to check the food, then ask over your shoulder, “Is that something you do a lot for work, too? Carpentry and the like?”

Simon shakes his head. “We do the heavy lifting. Clearing a place out, laying the foundation. Johnny—my coworker, he's mostly on machinery. Kyle does transport and plumbing. I do the heavier handiwork.”

You hum and start plating the food while asking him more questions. Is the pay good? Is his boss fair? Are his coworkers nice?

Price's fairly strict is what he is, Simon answers, and you laugh again. He likes that. Likes that he gets you to do that.

He wolfs down a plate of his pasta and devours the chicken. It's fragrant, roasted with lemon and thyme, bursts between his teeth. He tells you more about Johnny, that he's a cocky bastard who likes playing with electricity way too much, but that he's also a loyal friend. That he's a hard worker—that all of them are.

When his plate is empty and he's eyeing what's left in the pans you push them closer without saying anything, and prompt him to tell you about that time a plumbing line exploded and Kyle got soaked from tip to toe in disgusting gunk. He smelt like sewage water for weeks.

Simon doesn't even realise how much he's talked until his throat starts feeling rougher than usual. You make it easy somehow. If he'd thought you would look down on him because of your own job he needn't have worried. You're not at all like what he imagines when he thinks of professors, none of the stuffy superiority complex he's used to weathering when people find out all he does all day is chafe his fingers on hard cement.

Maybe you're just good at faking it, but he doubts it. The sparkle in your eyes when you listen to him so intently has to be real.

You send him home with a warm thanks and dessert, and Simon feels something in his chest lurch when you peer up at him through your lashes in the doorway, smiling and sweet. Can't remember the last time he went out for dates. Can't remember having the time or energy for it.

Pay him? What are you talking about, he does stuff like this for fun. Don't sweat it, love. Just hand him that wrench.

There are days when it's hard, of course. Simon is only human, and spending days and days on sizzling hard concrete would wring anyone dry. The project is coming along nicely, but at the height of summer there's plenty of times when even the promise of your smile isn't enough to keep him from falling asleep on his couch—often on an empty stomach.

But during the weekends he rings your bell dutifully. Six o’clock becomes something sacred in his mind, sweet relief after praying on his knees for hours smoothing out cement. It gets to the point where he turns down Friday drinks with the guys more than once because he's got something to go home for now, his pretty little bird that's never once mentioned a boyfriend of any kind.

“You really should let me pay you.”

Simon gives you a look before pushing his large shoulders further into the cabinet under the bathroom sink. “Should be the one payin’ you. I know I'm doubling your grocery bill.”

He eats more at your place than his own these days. It gives him incentive to rush through a shower, dress like something resembling a human, then wait at your doorstep to be let in. Wagging tail and everything.

Your cheeks darken and you duck your head. “No, um... It makes me happy. To see you eat my cooking, I mean,” you confess a little shyly. “I feel like I'm the one getting everything out of this. I hope I'm not keeping you from—from spending time at home, or with your family.”

“S’just me, love.” Simon pauses, pretends to inspect the pipes. “Less you don't want me coming ‘round anymore.”

“No, no,” you say hastily. “No, I like—I like the company. Really.” Your voice softens. “And I'm not just saying that because I appreciate the help.”

Simon exhales, shifts a little to accommodate the strain in his boxers, and holds his hand out for the screwdriver.

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #simon ghost riley x reader #x reader #if you saw me post this to the wrong blog. no you didnt.

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cherubunie · 2 months ago

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perfect ~ Dom! Choso x Chubby! Insecure! Reader

Choso is one big man. He could pick you up and throw you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing- but recently, you started to become a little distant with your boyfriend; your sex drive has gone down dramatically, you don't really let your boyfriend hug you under your arms let alone touch your stomach or thighs. Choso has always known about your insecurities regarding your weight and body figure- but he thinks that everything about you absolutely perfect in every way possible. He's absolutely crazy about you, especially your body. But recently, you don't think so.

Word count: 6000

Dom! Choso x Chubby! Insecure! Reader smut. Alternative AU. reader is a liiiiiittle bit of an ooc, whoops. Praising, sweet talk, face grabbing, heavy choking, air / wall sex (?), oral sex, breeding, manhandling, body checking, (you're all perfect no matter what, I love you ♡), choso has tattoos and piercings,,,, yummy. CHUBBY GIRLIES NEED LOVE TOO GUYS!!!

Choso and you have a love so deep for each other, that oftentimes, it feels like it was written in a story book. You guys are two halves of the same person, and one without the other was rare- uncommon. What was weird about it, is that you two are polar opposites. He prefers things a certain way, you prefer things another. Although there have been bumps in the relationship due to the differences you two face, nether of you could think of a life without the other in it. You guys were fated, that's the way things were, and will continue to be.

Choso is undeniably crazy about you. Everything you do, anything you say is perfect to him. Your mind, body, and soul were devastatingly beautiful. He would do anything you asked him to do without second thought, he even does things you don't ask him to. The first moment he laid eyes on you in his tattoo shop, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was even worked up the entire time he was tattooing you too, wandering eyes that trailed a little too far down your body for his own good. What made the experience even better was how talkative you were with him, how warm and comfortable you made the atmosphere of his tattoo studio feel. The two of you talked for hours about the most random things- he got to know you a little.

After that tattoo appointment, he wanted to know more about you. He wanted to know everything, he wanted everything. You were just so beautiful, he couldn't help himself.

and you felt the exact same way. Your eyes fixated on the tattoos that littered his arms and neck. The way his lip piercings complimented his face perfectly. His deep, raspy voice making you feel things you shouldn't about a stranger. And especially the way his fingers moved on your skin as he marks you with his art. You couldnt help yourself. Six months later, you came in for a touch up on your beautiful tattoo and things blossomed from there.

Now here you were, three blissful years later in your shared apartment. Choso was at the studio as you lay in your bed, scrolling on your phone looking through your social media. A beautiful, blonde haired, skinny girl popped up and suddenly, the salt and vinegar chips you were eating felt like glass. The girl was beautiful, you just wish you looked like her.

Getting up off the bed, you walked into the kitchen and put your chips away, grabbing a glass of water instead to wash down the glass. After finishing, you set the now empty glass on the counter and run your fingers through your hair with a sigh.

You walked into the living room, stopping in the middle of it, looking at the weights and yoga mat in the corner of the apartment.

"I really need to lose weight" you sigh again. No matter what you do, no matter what gym you go to, no matter what you eat, and no matter what workouts you try to do, you just can't seem to lose the pudge on your tummy or any weight on your thighs. Having choso help you target different areas on your body while working out has made you feel a little better- like you were trying- and you appreciate him for being so supportive, but alas, here you were.

You roll your eyes and walk into your shared bedroom. You look around the room in search of any entertainment. After a minute, your eyes fixate on the new bags of clothes that sit on your vanity. They were so cute, Choso helped you pick them. Frilly skirts, cute crop tops, a couple dresses, short skirts, and so much more. You smile and walk over to the bags, beginning to go through them.

You pull out a baby pink, spaghetti strapped top that has the cutest design ever. You're about to try it on before your insecurities cloud your mind once more.

my arms are too big for this..

You inhale deeply and clench your jaw, setting the article of clothing back in its bag before pulling out another. A white, short lace ruffle skirt. you remember choso picking it out for you.

"This would compliment your legs so well baby, put it in the pile, I'll buy it"

You smile at the recent memory, you go to slide your underwear down your legs, as you're only wearing one of choso's baggy shirts and panties, but before you can do that, another insecurity pops up, making you huff in frustration.

the stretch marks on my thighs are gonna ruin how pretty the skirt is.

You groan and throw the skirt back to the vanity and sit down on the edge of the bed. your thoughts now running wild. You promised yourself you wouldn't do this anymore, yet here you were, walking over to the mirror on your sliding closet doors and lifting up the shirt, observing your body. Your eyes pick apart every. single. fragment of your figure, and your mind degrades them.

My thighs are too big, my stretch marks are so deep, my stomach is too flabby, my arms are too fat

You pick yourself apart while looking in the mirror. just as you're about to degrade yourself again, you let choso's shirt go and it dangles down past your mid thigh.

You walk over to the bed and sit on the edge, your head in your hands as your eyes start to sting and you chew on the skin of your bottom lip until it bleeds.

Choso bubbles in excitement when he approaches the front door, excited to finally be home with his love. He's so happy to spend the rest of the day with you he impatiently opens the door and closes it behind him.

"Y/n, babydoll i'm home!" his voice echos off the walls of the apartment before its silent once more. Silent apart from the little sniffles coming from your bedroom. His smiling face falters at the sound, setting his phone, wallet, and keys down on the couch before pushing the door to the room open.

He sees you, sitting in the middle of the bed with your knees in your face and your hair a mess. His heart breaks a little at the sight. You hear the door open and instantly look up with tears running down your plump cheeks and a pout on your lips. Choso's emotions match yours, but his are a little more angry.

Its not anger directed at you, he could never be angry with his little princess, he's angry with whatever has upset you, and he's going to find the root of whatever it is, and terminate that. Even if it's a person, he doesn't give a fuck.

You instantly wipe your tears and give him a fake smile, trying to pretend you were okay. He frowns at you and walks over to the bed in front of you.

"I didn't hear you come in, how was your day cho?" you smile at him again. He can tell it's fake because your eyes scrunch up whenever your smile is genuine. He crosses his toned arms over his broad chest and looks down at you. Your smile falters just a hair as you stare back at him.

"mine was fine, how was yours." He says, his voice full of questions.

"mine was okay, I took a nap earlier" you replied, not looking away from him. He raises an eyebrow at your clear lie and tilts his head to the side.

"enough. what's wrong y/n." he demands an answer. your eyes widen as you take a sharp inhale and look around the room, anywhere but choso. you sit criss cross in the middle of the bed and your arms move slowly to hug yourself, your eyes stinging again. Choso looks around the room to find anything that could have upset you, and his eyes land on the bags of clothes that were obviously rummaged through and he puts two and two together, his attitude changing instantly as he turns to face you.

"oh honey" is all he says and your crying all over again. you bring your hands to your face and cover your eyes, crying into your palms as your loving boyfriend shuffles onto the bed to sit behind you, wrapping you in his arms and bringing you closer. You shuffle away from him uncomfortably as his arms are wrapped around your tummy.

Choso sighs at your actions and forces you to sit on his lap, your back flush against his chest. he brings his head to rest on your shoulders and gives you feather light kisses on your neck and cheeks. You guys sit like that for a while, you crying as he holds you through your breakdown.

"I just- feel like- im too heavy for you- im so big-" you hiccup out a sob before continuing

"im so ugly- my body is ugly and- and my stretch marks are so unflat- unflattering-" another hiccuped sob escapes your throat

"you're so- handsome and so strong- there are so many- other girls- skinnier and prettier girls- you could be with anybody you want and- and you chose me" you're cries got quieter as you bring your soaked hands away from your face, rubbing on choso's shirt your wearing.

Choso shakes his head in disbelief and forces your body to face him. He moves a strand of hair out of your face and cups your cheek, forcing your face to his, but your eyes avoid contact with his.

"look at me baby" his words soft and gentle. You shake your head and close your eyes, disobeying him.

"I said look at me, y/n." Choso's stern voice came back. He only does that whenever he absolutely needs you to listen to him, or when you're having sex. Right now, he needs you to hear his words. Your eyes fly open at his tone of voice, knowing he's serious. you look into his eyes that are filled with unlimited amounts of love, you could get lost in them.

"you listen to me baby, understand?" his stern voice never faltering and it makes a chill run down your spine as you nod your head. He smiles at you softly and looks at the entirety of your face.

"good girl" his tone softens and it makes you feel more at ease. he looks deeply into your eyes as he continues.

"you are so unbelievably beautiful, you just don't see yourself that way. everything about you is perfect. your face," he kisses your cheeks and eyelids, making a small giggle bubble up out of your throat and it makes choso smile hearing your soft laugh.

"your mind" he kisses your forehead.

"and even your body." he looks you up and down, drinking in the sight of you in his shirt. You shift uncomfortably under his gaze and he takes notice of your action, trailing his hands up your thighs and around your waist, and to your surprise, you let him do so. He lifts you up and forces you to sit on his lap facing him.

"you are so perfect, I wish I could give you my eyes so you could see just how perfect you truly are" his breath fans your face as you look up to the freakishly big man, your hands dangle at your sides. he cups your cheeks with both of his hands, caressing the warm skin with his thumbs.

"you are not, and you never will be too big for me. I don't care what size you are, big or small, you will always be my babydoll." he kisses your forehead, your nose, and then your lips before pulling away from you.

"I don't want any of those other girls, you are the only one for me, and you're the only girl I need. you are so much more than them, everything about you is. I love you for you, your body is just a plus, and I love it." you smile at him softly, dragging your hands up and down his strong arms, feeling his muscles under your fingertips. you stare into his loving eyes, but they falter once more when a thought comes into your mind. Choso moves one of his hands down to cup the back of your neck, rubbing it, and the other settles itself on your thigh, caressing the tender skin.

"cho,, i dont.. i dont deserve you.." choso shakes his head, moving his arms down to push you further into his body, your chest almost flushed against his.

"you, my precious girl, are perfect for me. I don't want it any other way." you sniffle at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck and burry your face into his chest, getting as close to him as possible. choso wraps his arms around your frame, one hand cupping the back of your head and stroking your hair, the other rubbing small circles on your back.

"shh, its okay baby, you're okay. my pretty girl, my beautiful love, my sweet baby" his words of reassurance bring you comfort, calming you down. he brings his head to the crook of your neck, littering your skin in soft kisses. your hold on him falters as you pull away, he repeats your actions and leans back ever so slightly to look at you.

"I love you." his breath fans your face, you look into him, stare into him really. your face turns the slightest shade of pink at his words.

"im serious, y/n. I love you, with my entire existence I love you." he cups your head once more, and you can't help it. you lean in just a hair and kiss him, deeply. you kiss him so intentently, trying to show him how much you love him. he hums into your mouth, moving his hands down to your waist, and for the first time in what seems like months, you don't flinch away from his touch, nor do you feel like you're too much. his huge hands swallow your figure. no matter how big you think you are, he will always be able to make you feel so small and loved. he adjusts you even closer onto him, your bodies now pressed against one another.

his hands wonder your body, rubbing your back, waist, and thighs. he loves touching you, its his favorite thing to do. he wants to explore every crevice of your body as if its his first time. you always make him feel like he's floating on a cloud, a drunk, happy cloud. your arms around his neck push him closer into you, arching your back as if that would help you dissolve into his body in order to become one person, your tongue licks the bottom of his lip and he opens his mouth, teeth and tounges colliding in a sloppy kiss. choso pulls his head away a couple centimeters from yours and looks at you. he observes your pink cheeks and full lips, biting the inside of his cheek before he speaks.

"let me show you how much I love you y/n, let me show you how beautiful you are" he leans his forehead on yours in the middle of his plea, closing his eyes as he breathes in, slowly losing his restraint. you're already driving him crazy and all the two of you did was kiss.

"will you let me show you how crazy you make me?" you nod your head and within a fraction of a second, choso is pressing your body against his as he flips you over onto your back, hovering over you. one of his hands caressing your thighs as you pull him into kiss you, paying no mind the cold jewelry pierced into his lip. the other holds himself up above your frame, resting above your head. this kiss is far more passionate, your hands tangle in his dark hair as he spreads your legs with his hand, grinding his clothed dick against your needy center. you whine into his mouth at the contact and he takes the opportunity to sneakily push his tongue into your mouth, exploring.

his grinding is slow and sensual, making you needy and wet. he bites your bottom lip softly before detaching himself, hovering over to look at you. he stands up off the bed and takes his shirt off, throwing it on your vanity. his black shirt oddly complimenting your pink skin care and eyeshadow pallets. he grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed so your legs dangle off the sides. you squeal at his actions followed by a giggle. he smiles down at you as the sound of your laughter bubble out of your throat, echoing inside the chambers of his skill.

his tattoo's are on full display, and your mouth waters. he's so attractive, especially with the way he looks at you. sinful, yet so loving. he's admiring you as if you were his most prized possession, and to him you were. his hands find their way to the hem of his shirt you're wearing, and he slowly starts undressing you.

"I love it when you wear my clothes, but I love taking them off of you even more." he says looking directly into your eyes, his hands brush your sides so lightly, it makes you shriek, laughing as he pauses in confusion.

"that tickled !" if smiles could kill, he'd be a dead man. you look so precious when you're bubbly and happy. he wants nothing more than to make you smile like that every second of every day for the rest of his life. and he plans to.

Choso doesn't move, he just stares at you. a smile plastered on his lips matching yours. he looks all up and down your body, admiring all your curves. the tiger stripe-like stretch marks make his mouth water. the pudge of your tummy perfect in his eyes- but he wouldn't mention it to you because he knows how much you dislike that part of you- even though he finds it sexy. the way there is so much more of you to love.

"I love you"

this time, you can feel just how deep those words are, a pout on your lips and you feel like crying all over again. not because of your insecurities, those are pushed to the back of your mind. but because the man before you single handedly just made you feel so loved and complete in a way you've never felt before.

"I love you"

he takes in a couple more seconds of your innocent, loving look before he shakes his head with a low chuckle, continuing to lift the shirt off of you completely, throwing it in the same direction he did his own shirt.

now, you sit on the bed completely naked apart from the lacy purple panties, causing choso to suck in a breath at the sight.

his favorite color

He smiles to himself, walking up to you, standing in in-between your legs.

He looks down at you, grabbing your jaw in his hands and making you look up at him. he tounges one of his lip piercings before speaking

"you're so unbelievably gorgeous, baby. such pretty girl." he leans down, his grip on your face held in place as he whispers

"too bad i'm about to ruin you, hm?" you shiver as he stands back up, a shit eating grin on his face as you clamp your thighs together. he leans back down, his hands on either side of your body as his lips find yours in a slow, deep kiss. you sigh into him once you feel one his hands on your inner thigh, tracing its way upwards to your core. His lips detach from yours with a wet 'pop'

"spread your legs for me sweetheart" you happily oblige, spreading your thighs apart enough for his hand to make contact with your clothed pussy. he runs his long fingers down the slit of your cunt, feeling how needy you already are.

"so wet already? all for me?" he taunts, and you can feel the smirk on his face through the tone of his voice, not even needing to look at him. you whimper at his words, moving your hands to his back, holding onto him. his fingers pinpoint your clit, drawing slow circles on the bundle of nerves, making yet another deep whimper escape your mouth. his forehead is now pressed against yours, watching the moans spill from your lips as your eyes close. he pushes your underwear to the side, the pads of his fingers now massaging your bare clit.

he's slow and concentrated, making sure you feel the pleasure he brings you throughout your entire body. one particular swipe over your clit has you closing your thighs around his hand, and he doesn't like that very much.

his hand disappears and you fling your eyes open, only to see choso slowly get down on his knees in front of you. he takes his hands and places them on your knees, forcing your thighs far apart.

"if you can't keep your legs spread apart for me, looks like 'm gonna have to keep them open myself" his hands reach for your panties, pulling them down your knees and past your ankles, discarding them across the room. his hands reposition themselves back onto your knees, keeping them spread apart, barring your pussy, open and right in front of his face.

He hums at the sight, drinking in the view of your wet clit and slightly throbbing hole. he stands up, and slowly pushes you down onto your back, laying down. he mimics your actions, coming down and hovering over you, holding himself up on one of his arms, the other tracing small patterns on the inside of your thigh. he kisses your lips deeply, you hum into his mouth, your hands coming to wrap around his neck holding him closer. his lips detach from yours and he starts kissing your neck, leaving the prettiest shade of his favorite color all over your skin. his kisses trail down your collarbones, teeth scraping against your skin as tiny moans and whines drip from your lips.

choso makes his way down to your breasts, looking at your perky nipple and oh how he could spend hours upon hours sucking, biting and playing with your breasts, but now isn't the time, so he decides to kiss it once, then twice before kissing it softly, the cool metal of his lip rings pressing into your flesh. he wraps his lips around your sensitive bud and sucking directly after, pulling yet another string of moans out of your throat. he chuckles into your boob, his free hand coming to fondle with the other, picking and pulling your nipple.

"oh my god- c-cho" you whine, your hands coming up to his spikes hair and tugging on his pony tails. his sucking gets more aggressive as does his hand, but you can't help yourself from moaning into him, arching your back. after a minute of assaulting your boobs, he sits up slightly, your nipple still being bit, and it draws a small hiss of pain out of you before he detaches himself.

he chuckles at your reaction, kissing your skin once more down your sternum and to your stomach and abdomen. he kisses the plump flesh, resting his head on your tummy and looking up at you, admiring you and your body.

"you're so beautiful" he says, making a dark pink plush rise to color your cheeks you smile down at him, not needing any words in that moment.

choso proceeds with his kisses down your stomach, finishing off with a kiss directly above your clit, face to face with your heat, his breath fanning your pussy as he speaks.

"god, everything about you really is perfect, look at your pussy baby" he says, bragging to himself, thoughts of how lucky he is to have such a breathtaking woman. before you had the chance to look, the feeling his warm tongue on your clit has you yelping in surprise. he looks up at you, your face contorting into one of pleasure.

Choso licks a couple stripes up your slit before focusing on your clit, sucking harshly enough for another yelp to bounce off the walls. his teeth bite down. a sharp, pleasurable sensation that sends vibrations throughout your entire body. you lay on your back, but choso doesn't take his eyes off of you.

his mouth does wonders on your throbbing clit, his tongue fast and relentless as he eats you out. your juices drip down his chin, but he doesn't care. as a matter of fact, he can't get enough. so he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls your pussy even farther into his face, drowning himself in your pussy. you gasp at the sudden movement, but moans of pleasure follow directly after. you sit up on your forearms as you watch your boyfriend completely devour you.

you feel the coil in your stomach approaching quickly, a knot about to snap. your legs shake in his hold and your whines grow louder. Choso's sinister laugh is swallowed by your pussy, but you were still able to hear it.

his sucking becomes harsher as you approach your fast growing orgasm. you throw your head back in ecstasy and there are tears in your eyes. its been such a long time since he's eaten you out so you're much more sensitive than normal, and he can tell.

"ch-cho-so please, need- plea, need to-"

"cum for me pretty, you can do it sweet girl" he interrupts your please of release and not even a second later, your creaming all over his face, painting his nose and chin in your fluids.

"so good for me hmm" he says into your clit as the motions on your clit come to a slow hault, making sure you come down from your orgasm at a smooth pace. your body is limp, but he's nowhere close to being done with you.

his mouth leaves your heat and he gently puts your legs down as you sit up on your forearms weakly. you see him undoing his belt buckle and his pants hitting the floor, his boxers following. his dick is hard as it slaps against his abdomen. you remember how tall and muscular he is, so his dick was to be big too, you just dont remember very well its been so long. his arms move towards your body, and you feel him lift your hips up and grab your ass. you sit up fully so you're facing him completely.

"hold onto me sweetheart" he says and you wrap your arms around his neck as he lifts you into the air, your legs wrapping around his waist; picking you up into the air as if you were as light as a feather. you feel his dick prodding at your entrance as he carries you over to the sliding mirror of your closet.

choso throws you into the air slightly so your legs fall from his waist with a yelp dripping from your lips. He catches you and spins your body around so the both of you are looking at your reflections. one of his arms wraps around your body under your arm, his hand coming to your throat, wrapping his fingers around your neck, a couple landing on the base of your jaw as he forces you to look into the mirror at the two of you. his other hand sneakily pushes your hips back against his front, your ass pressed against his dick as he grinds into you from behind.

"look at yourself baby, such a pretty thing you are, my angel, I can't believe how lucky I am." he kisses the back of your head. looking at yourself, you see how well the both of you fit together, how small you look when you're next to him. you actually feel pretty for once.

"god, its like you were made for me. you look so pretty like this baby. my beautiful darling" he speaks into your ear. you whine, needing him, throbbing for him.

"choso please, I need- please" you beg him and he smiles, looking up through his stray hairs in his face, making eye contact with you through the mirror

"please what, angel?" he asks, teasing you. it feels like you're going to explode with need, you can't take it any longer.

"please fuck me, please I need you, I want you please-" he cuts you off by hooking his arm under your knee, lifting your feet off the ground, your legs now dangling in the air. His other hand still wrapped around your throat. Even though what he's doing is dangerous, and you've never done something like this before, he's gentle with you. Your air supply is cut off slightly as he lifts you into the air, your back pressed against his chest so you're not completely hanging.

Choso walks forward, pressing your breasts and chest into the mirror. his hand that's hooked under your dangling leg presses against the mirror, making sure he has a good grip against the glass to make sure you don't slip from his hold. his chest still pressing up against your back, using his body as leverage to hold you up in the air.

"cho-so wait-" your worried tone reaches his ears and he kisses your cheek

"its okay pretty, I got you, I wont let you fall I promise" he reassures you, and his words ease your mind. this position is new- and scary- to you, but you trust your lover, so you let him continue. with the arm that choso has his arm wrapped under yours and gripping your throat, you move your hand to rest on his forearm, your other coming to press against the mirror for a reassuring grip.

You feel his dick at your entrance, the position lining you up perfectly. choso slowly sinks you down as he thrusts up into you, bottoming out inside you completely. choso's whine mixed with a low groan fills your ears as you whimper into the mirror, arching your back.

"oh god, you're so tight 'nd warm, fuck you drive me insane" you hiss loudly at the familiar stretch, but your pain is quickly overridden by pleasure as he continues thrusting inside of you from behind, bouncing your body up against the mirror, your boobs still jiggling and nipples hard against the glass.

Your moans grow louder as the position he's fucking you in helps him reach deeper angles inside of you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. your dangling legs start shaking, your bodies beginning to sweat against each other as choso moans and groans into your ear, his breath hitting your skin. your fingernails did into the skin of his tattooed arm and you lean your head back into his chest, looking up at his face. Moans and whimpers drip off the both of your lips, the sweetest tune coming together in harmony.

"f-fuck ch-cho pl-please to- much ag-" your hiccuped moans cause him to chuckle into your ear, a deep, sinister sound that makes you squeeze around his cock.

"you're takin' me so well, f-fuck baby, 'm gonna fill you so full, fuck my pretty angel so full of my cum, bet you'd like that yeah?" he speaks directly into your ear, your pussy fluttering around his dick, squeezing and unsqueezing him so tightly, he could come at any second- but he holds back. your guys' mixed juices spill onto the floor below you, dripping down your leg and coating his balls and abdomen. the only sound in the room is skin slapping and moans, disgusting and needy moans.

His thrusts inside you are relentless, his cock driving up into you, his tip brushing up against your sweetest spot repeatedly, causing you to draw out the sweetest of sound that are choso's most favorite song. your legs are thrashing now, his grip on your throat tightening.

"'m so- clo-se ch-o please I can't, please let me cum- please!' your broken begs for release go ungranted to choso.

"hold it." his command stern as he pulls away from the mirror, you still in his hold as curses under his breath. He walks over to the bed, throwing you onto it with ease. He crawls around you, perching himself behind you as spins you onto your knees- ass up. He gently grabs your hips with one hand, the other grabbing a fistful of your hair, making you look into the mirror, right at your guys' reflection.

"this-" he thrusts his hard dick back inside your tight cunt "is my most favorite place in the world." without letting you go, he leans down and kisses your cheek, your mouth slack open in a beautiful "oh" shape and your eyes roll back into your skull.

his thrusts pick up the pace, his hips snapping against the flesh of your ass turning it red. the hand on your hips sneaks down and around you to rub your clit. a small yelp bouncing off the walls, your hands gripping the sheets below you.

"oh fuck, oh my god, I love you, I love you so much" choso's praisely perfect whines sends electric shocks straight to your clit as it pulsates into his fingers.

"you were made for me angel, so perfect, prettiest girl ive ever laid my eyes on- shit" he's looking at your face in the mirror, and if he could, he would tattoo that shit onto him- and he's actually considering it, because you look like the most beautifully disgusting painting he's ever created, fucking you as if it was the last time.

you were such a beautiful mess, all for him, created for him. he really was crazy about you. especially when he was making you and your pussy scream in pleasure- and that's exactly what he's doing.

"you're so pretty darling, drivin' me so crazy" you can't help but mewl at his words, feeling like you were on the edge of explosion. He can tell by the look on your face and the way your pussy begins to milk his cock. his grip tightens in your hair and leans down, biting your earlobe

"look at me sweetheart, look at me when I stuff you full of my cum and breed you like the pretty little whore you are"

your eyes fly open, looking directly into his. he sits up, lets go of your hair, and both of his hands come to grip the skin of your hips, his ruthless thrusts snapping against your ass are forceful as your moans turn into the most beautiful screams.

"takin' my cock so well, gon' take my cum next, how does that sound pretty?"

with one final thrust, you cream all over his cock with a moan, squeezing and fluttering all around him as he shoots white hot ropes of him cum deep inside you, throwing his head back with a loud groan. he pushes his hips farther into you, making sure you take all of him.

your cum leaks down your thighs as well as his, your legs shaking. if it weren't for the tight grip on your hips, you would have collapsed onto the bed by now.

He loosens his grip on you, gently pulling his softening dick out of your pussy. he puts you down on the bed softly and flips you over on your back and crawls on top of you, one of his hands coming to flatten your hair down and massage your sweaty face.

He cups your cheek and kisses your lips tenderly, then your cheeks, forehead, eyelids, and then your nose. his eyes gaze into yours with admiration and love, and you can't help but reciprocate.

"I really do wish you could see yourself the way I do, sweetheart. beautiful-" he kisses your nose again

"kind-" your forehead

"and perfect" he kisses your lips, his thumb caressing your cheek.

"I love you, choso"

"I love you, angel"

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stylesispunk · 3 months ago

Text

"Silent Strain" | Part ii

Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

previous chapter | next chapter

summary: Joel and you knew that bringing a child into this mad world was a mistake, but he wanted to give you the best that was left of that world after all.

w.c: 9,8k

warnings: established relationship, age gap (Joel is 43 and Reader 32) angst, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortion, mentions of miscarriage, fluff, not proofreading, sorry. (The events in this story happened 10 years after the outbreak.) paragraphs in cursive are reader's journal entries.

a/n: Let's continue with this story. This was supposed to be only three LONG chapters but will be divided into four. Thank you to the ones who read the first part and shared their thoughts with me, you have no idea how happy reading your comments makes me. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

August

“We lost Tess.

I don’t know what to feel after losing Tess. She was always the strong one, the one who knew what to do. I’m angry at her for leaving, but I understand. She believed in something—believed in Joel and me, in Ellie. Maybe that’s why I can’t find the words, because if I admit she’s gone, then I admit I have to keep going… without her.”

A few days later, the three of you were on the road in Bill’s battered truck Joel had managed to get running. The engine growled low, the sound vibrating through your bones as you sat in the passenger seat, trying to stay awake. The steady hum of the road beneath the tires, combined with the rhythmic sway of the truck, made it hard to keep your eyes open.

Joel kept glancing over at you, his eyes softening every time he saw you fighting sleep. He was quiet, his hands gripping the wheel tightly, the muscles in his jaw working as he navigated the broken highways. You could feel his concern, even without him saying a word. Every few moments, he would sneak another look at you, checking if you were okay, if you needed anything.

Ellie, meanwhile, was in the backseat, her head pressed against the window as she took in the world outside. Her eyes darted around, watching the overgrown trees that lined the road, the crumbling buildings in the distance, and the occasional abandoned car. Everything was new to her—every stretch of landscape, every broken-down sign. Despite the grim situation, there was a light of curiosity in her eyes, a small spark of wonder.

"Never thought I'd get to see the world like this," Ellie murmured, mostly to herself, but loud enough that Joel and you could hear. "It’s kinda… pretty, in a messed-up way."

You smiled faintly, your head leaning against the cool glass of the window. "There’s a lot of beauty left," you agreed softly, your voice thick with sleep. "You just have to look for it."

Ellie shifted uncomfortably in the back seat, her eyes flicking between the two of you. She hadn’t known Tess for very long, but she could tell Tess's death weighed heavily on you. "Hey," she said softly, leaning forward between the seats. "You okay up there?"

You didn't respond, your gaze fixed on the road ahead, the passing scenery a blur of green and grey. You felt numb, your hands resting on your lap, fingers interlaced tightly as if holding on to something unseen. The guilt was an anchor, pulling you deeper into yourself, further away from everything and everyone around you.

Joel’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, the leather creaking under his fingers. "She’s just… processing," he said, his voice rough. "We all are."

Ellie frowned, leaning back against the seat. "Yeah, I get that. But it's not like it's your fault, you know?" she said, glancing at you.

Your eyes darted to her for just a second, then back to the road. You wanted to say something, but your throat felt tight, your chest heavy. It was like there was a barrier between you and the world, and you didn’t know how to break through it.

Joel cleared his throat. "We just need some time," he muttered, more to himself than to Ellie. He understood the pain, the way guilt could wrap around your heart like a vice. He knew that trying to force you to talk wouldn’t help. All he could do was be there, steady and present, like he promised.

The truck continued on, the road stretching out before you, endless and uncertain. You could feel Joel's occasional glances, the weight of his concern pressing against your silence. He wanted to comfort you, to reach out, but he knew there was no easy way to heal the wound Tess's death had left behind.

Ellie seemed to sense the tension and turned her gaze back to the window.

"I want to sleep," you murmured, your voice barely above a breath.

Joel glanced at you, his expression softening, the hard lines around his eyes relaxing just a fraction. He nodded, understanding in that quiet way he had, not pressing for more, not asking questions you couldn't answer. “Okay,” he said gently. “We’ll find a safe place to spend the night.”

He knew you needed rest, needed a break from the relentless march forward, both on the road and in your head. He’d seen this before — people carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders, burdened by guilt and grief that wasn’t always theirs to bear. But it didn’t make it any easier to watch you go through it.

Joel's hand tightened on the steering wheel, and he glanced around, scanning the road for a place that looked secure enough to stop for a while.

Joel spotted a narrow dirt path leading off the main road into the dense woods. It was risky — the woods always were — but it was also a place where they could hide, away from the prying eyes of anyone passing by. A place where they might find some peace, at least for a few hours.

He turned the truck onto the path, driving slowly to avoid the deep ruts and branches that stretched across the way. The trees grew thicker around them, the canopy overhead blocking out the last bit of fading light. The woods felt quiet, almost too quiet, but Joel knew that was a good thing. The less noise, the fewer chances there were of running into trouble.

Eventually, he found a small clearing, just wide enough for the truck to fit without being seen from the road. He pulled the truck to a stop and turned off the engine. The silence was immediate, almost a relief, as the engine noise ceased and the sounds of the forest took over — the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant chirp of crickets.

“We’ll stay here,” Joel murmured, glancing at you. “For tonight, at least.”

You nodded, feeling the fatigue weighing down on you even more. You just wanted to sleep, to shut your eyes and escape from the heaviness that seemed to settle in your chest. Joel got out of the truck first, moving to your side, opening the door for you. He offered his hand, helping you out carefully.

Ellie hopped out after, her eyes scanning the trees around them. “Seems quiet,” she whispered. “But I don’t think is a proper place for a pregnant lady.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little at Ellie’s comment, despite everything. “Well, there aren’t exactly a lot of options,” you replied softly, squeezing Joel’s hand for support as you stepped down.

Joel’s face softened as he looked at you, his hand steady around yours. “We’ll make do,” he said quietly, glancing around the darkening woods. “Just for tonight.”

Ellie wandered ahead a bit, her eyes wide and alert, taking in the surroundings. “I’ll check around, see if there’s anything useful,” she offered, trying to sound casual but with a hint of concern in her voice.

Joel nodded, his hand still holding yours, guiding you carefully toward the truck bed. “Just stay here and don’t give more problems” he replied, his voice taking on a protective tone.

Ellie gave a mock salute, “Yes, sir,” she joked, but there was an underlying seriousness to her words.

You let out a small sigh as you sat down on the edge of the truck, your legs feeling like lead. Joel crouched in front of you, his eyes searching your face. “You okay?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing motion.

You nodded, though you felt anything but okay. “Just… tired. My ass feels numb” you murmured, trying to make Joel smile.

Joel’s lips curved into a small, appreciative smile, though the concern in his eyes didn’t entirely fade. “Yeah, I bet it does,” he said softly, no long after, Joel's brow furrowed with concern, and he reached up, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You need to rest,” he insisted. “We’ve got a long way to go tomorrow.”

You knew he was right, but the thought of closing your eyes, even for a moment, felt impossible. “I just can’t stop thinking about everything… Tess, the baby, all of it,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s face tightened at the mention of Tess, but he quickly masked it with a determined look. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised, his voice steady. “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

You nodded, moving a little bit to accommodate the pain on your back and legs.

Joel reached over, gently rubbing your back to ease some of the tension you were feeling. “I know it’s hard,” he said softly, “but we’ll take it one step at a time. We’ve faced tough shit before, and we’ll get through this too.”

You took a deep breath, trying to focus on his words and the comfort of his presence.

“I just… I keep thinking about what’s next. About the future. What if I’m not strong enough for this?”

Joel shook his head, his eyes meeting yours with a fierce determination. “You’re stronger than you think. We’re all in this together, and we’ll make sure the baby’s safe.

Ellie, who had been quietly listening, looked up with a sympathetic expression. “It’s okay to be scared,” she said softly. “But you’re not alone. We’ve got your back.”

You managed a small smile at Ellie’s words, feeling a flicker of gratitude for her support. “Thanks, Ellie.”

Joel squeezed your hand gently, his voice unwavering. “We’ll take this one day at a time. For now, try to get some rest.”

As you leaned against Joel’s shoulder, exhaustion finally started to overtake you. His warmth and steady presence made it easier to let your eyes close, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing lulling you into a much-needed sleep. You felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer, his thumb gently brushing against your arm as he tried to make you comfortable.

Joel shifted slightly, careful not to wake you, his eyes never leaving your face. He moved his other arm to support your head, cradling you as you slept. The lines of worry on his face softened for a moment, replaced by a rare tenderness.

Ellie watched the whole scene unfold with a quiet intensity. After a moment, she broke the silence with a soft, almost teasing voice. “You really love her, don’t you?”

Joel glanced at Ellie, caught off guard by her question. He hesitated, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face before he responded in a low, steady voice, “Yeah… I do.”

Ellie nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “Good,” she whispered. “She deserves that.”

Joel’s gaze softened even more as he looked back at you, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “She deserves a lot more than just that,” he murmured quietly, almost to himself. He sighed, his eyes turning back to the darkness outside, staying vigilant for any signs of danger.

Ellie sat back, her gaze still on Joel, observing the shift in his expression. "You know," she said quietly, “I didn’t know you were this protective over her.”

Joel’s jaw tightened slightly, and he gave a small nod, his eyes still scanning the woods. "It’s different," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not just about me anymore. It’s about keeping her safe, keeping you both safe. And the baby."

Ellie watched him for another moment, her expression softening. "You’re doing a good job, Joel," she said earnestly.

Joel gave a faint smile, though it was tinged with worry. "I hope so," he replied, his voice filled with a rare tenderness. He looked down at you, still asleep against his shoulder, and felt a surge of protectiveness, stronger than ever.

For a moment, there was silence, only the sounds of the forest around them. Then Ellie shifted her weight, wrapping her arms around her knees. "We’ll be okay," she said, almost as if trying to convince herself too. "We just have to keep moving… together."

Joel nodded, his hand gently caressing your arm as you slept. "Yeah," he agreed softly.

"I didn’t take you for a softie.” Ellie joked.

Joel let out a low chuckle, his lips curling into a slight smirk. "Don’t go spreading that around, kid," he replied, keeping his voice light. "Gotta maintain my reputation."

Ellie grinned, enjoying this rare moment of teasing between them. "Your secret’s safe with me," she whispered, her tone playful. "But I think she already knows."

Joel’s smile softened as he looked down at you, still resting peacefully against him. "Yeah, she does," he murmured, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles on your arm. "And that’s all that matters."

Ellie watched him for a moment longer, a glimmer of warmth in her eyes. "You know," she said quietly, "I think you’re good for each other. Even if you’re all grumpy and stuff."

Joel scoffed, but his expression remained tender. "Grumpy, huh? You got a lot of nerve, kid," he replied with mock seriousness, but there was a lightness in his voice.

Ellie laughed softly, enjoying the back-and-forth. "Hey, I call it like I see it," she replied with a grin, leaning back against her pack. "But seriously, it’s nice to see you… you know, care about someone. Makes all this less… bleak, I guess."

Joel’s face softened further, a rare warmth breaking through his usual guarded demeanor. "I care about her, more than anything.” he said quietly, his gaze shifting from Ellie back to you, still sleeping soundly against his shoulder. “Now, go to sleep, Kid. I’ll make sure you both are safe”

“Three.” She said, before turning his back to Joel “me, her, and the baby.”

Joel's expression softened even more at Ellie's correction, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a tenderness he rarely let show. "Three of you."

Ellie settled down, pulling her jacket tighter around her as she prepared to sleep. She glanced back one last time. "Goodnight, Joel."

"Goodnight, kid," Joel replied softly, his focus returning to the dark woods around them. He kept one arm protectively around you, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on your arm, feeling the steady rise and fall of your breathing.

For a moment, everything felt almost… normal. Peaceful. The world outside was still dangerous, still uncertain, but right here, in this tiny clearing with you and Ellie, Joel felt like he had something worth fighting for again. A reason to keep going, to stay vigilant.

He glanced down at you, his heart swelling with an emotion he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years. "I won't let anything happen to any of you," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

the night wore out, and you woke up with a blanket wrapped around your body. It took you some seconds to realize where you were, until you saw Ellie sleeping next you. You immediately look for Joel, until you saw him, standing some feet away, holding his riffle on his hands.

You slowly pushed the blanket aside, careful not to disturb Ellie, who was curled up beside you, her breaths deep and even in sleep. The blanket’s warmth still lingered on your skin, and it took you a moment to realize Joel must have covered you with it sometime during the night.

Quietly, you got up and made your way over to him, your steps soft against the damp ground. Joel heard you approach; his posture relaxed slightly, but he kept his gaze fixed on the distance, always alert. As you reached his side, he glanced down at you, his expression unreadable in the shadows.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice still thick with sleep.

Joel’s eyes softened at the sight of you. “Hey,” he replied just as quietly, his voice gravelly in the early morning air. “Did I wake you up?”

“You didn’t,” you assured him. “I just… I woke up and saw you over here.” You looked out into the woods, the thick trunks of trees barely visible in the dawn light. “You’ve been up all night?”

He gave a small shrug. “Someone’s gotta keep watch. Couldn’t sleep, anyway.” His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was an undercurrent of something else — concern, maybe. “You should get some more rest. Still got a long way ahead of us.”

You shook your head, moving closer so your arm brushed against his. “I’m okay,” you whispered, “but you need to take care of yourself, too.”

Joel huffed out a quiet laugh, though there was no humor in his eyes. “I’ll rest when we’re safe,” he replied, his hand shifting on the rifle. “But thanks for the concern.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles. “Joel, you can’t do everything alone.”

His gaze flickered to yours, something vulnerable passing through his expression. “I know,” he murmured. “I just… I can’t risk anything happening to you or Ellie. Not again. Not after…”

He trailed off, but you knew what he was thinking — Tess, all the others they had lost. You leaned in closer, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, feeling his warmth seep into you.

“We’ll be okay,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his torso, leaving a trace of kisses on his neck.

Joel stiffened for a moment as your lips brushed against his neck, his breath hitching at the unexpected touch. His hand tightened on the rifle, but slowly, he relaxed into your embrace. He let out a soft, shaky breath, his free arm coming around you, pulling you closer.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice a little rough, "don’t go getting all soft on me now." But there was no bite in his words, just a quiet plea masked by his gruff exterior.

You smiled against his skin, feeling the way his body responded to your touch, the way his heart beat a little faster under your palm. "Just admit you love it," you murmured between kisses, your lips trailing gently up his neck, finding the spot just below his ear that made him shiver.

Joel swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt as if holding on to you for dear life. "You’re gonna be the death of me," he breathed out, but his voice was thick with emotion.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. His eyes were dark, filled with fear, longing, and something else, something softer, more vulnerable than he usually let himself show. "I’m not going anywhere," you said firmly, your hand moving to cup his cheek. "And neither are you.”

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours. "Goddamn it," he muttered, almost to himself, "you make it so damn hard not to…" He didn't finish, but you understood. You always did.

You smiled softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. "Not to what?"

Joel chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that was rare but welcome. "Not to fall harder for you every day," he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's eyes searched yours for a moment, as if weighing your words, his breath still coming a little too fast. Then, without another word, he leaned down and kissed you. His lips were urgent, needy, as though he was trying to pour all his unspoken fears and desires into that single moment.

The kiss deepened quickly, his hand moving to the back of your head, tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. You could feel the roughness of his beard against your skin, the way his heart pounded against your chest. There was something desperate in the way he kissed you, something that spoke of all the things he couldn't say, all the things he had lost and was afraid of losing again.

You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands moving to his shoulders, then sliding up to cup his face, feeling the strength and the fragility all at once. His lips were warm, his breath hot against your mouth, and you could feel the way he was holding back, afraid to let go completely, but wanting so badly to let himself feel this.

When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you," he confessed, his voice thick, barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, brushing a thumb over his cheek. "You won’t lose me," you promised. "We’ve come too far for that."

Joel’s eyes softened, his thumb gently tracing your lips as if memorizing the feel of them. "I love you," he said, the words coming out almost like a prayer like he needed to say them out loud to believe them. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, your heart swelling with emotion. "I love you, too," you whispered back, leaning in for another kiss, this one softer, sweeter.

A few hours later, you were back on the road. The sun had just started to rise, casting a soft orange glow over the landscape. You sat in the back seat, your journal opened on your lap, a pencil in your hand. You leaned against the window, writing carefully as the truck bounced over the uneven road.

You wrote to your baby, your thoughts spilling onto the page.

“It’s been a long road so far. I hope one day you get to read this, to know that even before you were born, you were loved. Tess… she would have liked you, I think. I wish she could be here, but I promise you this: Joel and I will do everything to keep you safe. I know it’s not the world I wanted for you, but it’s the one we’ve got, and we’ll make the best of it.”

You paused, glancing up as you heard Ellie’s voice from the front seat. She was perched in the passenger seat, her feet up on the dashboard, and she was peppering Joel with questions — as usual.

“So, Joel,” Ellie asked, her curiosity unbridled. “You ever have a pet?”

Joel shot her a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road. "Nope," he replied gruffly.

“Really? Not even a goldfish?” Ellie pressed, leaning in closer with a grin.

Joel huffed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not even a goldfish," he confirmed.

Ellie rolled her eyes dramatically. "Well, that's sad. Everyone needs a pet. I used to have a stuffed bear… I named it Captain."

Joel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Captain? What kind of adventures did Captain go on?"

Ellie’s face lit up. "Oh, you know, saving the world, defeating the evil cat empire… normal bear stuff."

You couldn't help but smile as you listened, their banter a small bright spot in an otherwise harsh world. You looked back down at your journal and continued writing.

“And Ellie… she’s something special. Smart, tough, got a mouth on her, but she’s got a good heart. She keeps things… lighter. Reminds us why we keep going, even when it feels like the worlds against us.”

Ellie’s voice cut through your thoughts again, her tone curious. “Joel, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

Joel shifted in his seat, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Crazy, huh? Well… probably sticking around to watch you try to figure out a joke for three hours.”

Ellie laughed, a bright, infectious sound. “Hey, that was a good joke! You just didn’t get it.”

“Maybe,” Joel replied, his eyes flicking up to the rearview mirror, catching yours for a brief moment. His expression softened, a silent reassurance passing between you.

You closed your journal, tucked it back into your pack, and leaned back in your seat, feeling a little lighter. Despite everything, there was hope in these small moments.

The truck came to a sudden halt, jolting you forward in your seat. You looked up, startled, as Joel’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched. The road ahead was a mess — cars scattered everywhere, some piled on top of one another, blocking the path completely. The remnants of a long-ago traffic jam, abandoned when the world went to hell.

Joel muttered a curse under his breath and cut the engine, the truck rumbling to a stop. He glanced back at you and Ellie, his expression tense. "Stay inside," he ordered firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without another word, he pushed open the door and stepped out, his rifle slung over his shoulder. You watched him carefully as he moved towards the edge of the road, scanning the area, his eyes sharp and wary. The wind rustled through the trees, the only sound breaking the stillness around you.

Ellie leaned forward, her hands gripping the dashboard. “What’s going on?” she whispered, her voice low.

“Road’s blocked,” you replied softly, your eyes not leaving Joel as he stepped closer to the cars, looking for a way through. “He’s just checking if it’s safe.”

Ellie’s brow furrowed, her fingers tapping nervously. “Yeah, but what if it’s not?”

You didn’t answer immediately, your stomach tightening with a familiar knot of anxiety. You hated moments like this — the uncertainty, the vulnerability. “We wait,” you finally said, though your voice was tinged with the same concern.

Joel moved carefully, his eyes sweeping over the surrounding area, every sense alert. He disappeared around the side of a truck for a moment, and you felt your heart rate quicken, every nerve on edge. You leaned forward, trying to keep your gaze on him through the windshield.

After a few tense moments, Joel reappeared, his face set in a grim expression. He looked back towards the truck, his gaze locking with yours. He shook his head slightly, signaling for you both to stay put.

He approached the edge of the road, where a gap between two cars revealed a narrow path leading into the woods. His posture was tense, his rifle raised and ready. He paused, listening, and you could see his muscles coiled, ready for any sudden movement.

Ellie bit her lip, glancing at you. “Should we…?”

“No,” you cut her off gently but firmly. “If Joel says to stay, we stay.”

Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes, and your hand found its way to your belly, instinctively protective. The air felt heavy, thick with anticipation. Then, a distant sound — a faint rustling from the trees, maybe an animal, or something else. Joel stiffened, his head turning towards the noise.

He moved further down the line of cars, his rifle up, every step deliberate and cautious. You held your breath, your fingers gripping the edge of the seat, silently willing him to be okay.

Ellie shifted beside you, restless. “I hate this waiting,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes darting to the window.

You couldn’t help but agree, the silence growing louder with every passing second.

You glanced at Ellie, then at Joel, who was still moving cautiously among the wreckage. Your instinct to help was overpowering, and you made a decision.

"I'm going out," you said, your voice firm despite the trembling of your hands.

Ellie’s eyes widened. "Are you sure? Joel told us to stay—"

"I know what he said," you interrupted gently but resolutely. "But I can’t just sit here while he’s out there alone. Stay inside and keep the door locked."

Without waiting for a response, you grabbed your gun from its place in the truck and slung your arrow bow over your shoulder. The weight of the weapons felt reassuring for a moment.

You stepped out of the truck, the cool air hitting your face as you scanned the area. The sight of Joel moving between the cars, his rifle up and ready, filled you with a mix of anxiety and determination. You approached him, keeping your movements deliberate and steady.

Joel turned sharply as he heard you approach, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. “What the hell are you doing out here?” he snapped, though his voice carried a note of relief.

“I couldn’t stay in the truck,” you replied, your voice steady. “Ellie’s inside, but I needed to be out here. Let’s see what’s going on.”

Joel’s eyes softened slightly, though his brow remained furrowed. “You shouldn’t be—”

“We don’t have time for that,” you cut him off, your tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m pregnant, not broken.”

Joel studied you for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Fine. Just stay close and stay sharp.”

You moved alongside him, your senses on high alert as you navigated through the maze of abandoned vehicles. The air was thick with the scent of decay and rust, the remnants of chaos that had long since passed.

“Looks like we’ve got a narrow path here,” Joel said, gesturing towards the gap between the cars. “We might be able to push through, but it’s risky. You see anything suspicious?”

You kept your gaze moving, scanning the area for any signs of danger. “No, but I don’t like how quiet it is,” you replied.

Joel nodded, his grip on his rifle tightening as he led the way. The two of you moved cautiously, Joel checking every corner and crevice, while you kept watch with your bow ready. The silence of the forest pressed in on you, making every sound feel amplified and ominous.

As you carefully made your way through the narrow path, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of adrenaline and focus. Despite the danger, there was a strange sense of purpose in being out here, working alongside Joel to tackle the challenges ahead.

“Be careful,” Joel said quietly as you approached the end of the blockage. “We don’t know what’s beyond this.”

You gave a quick nod, your eyes scanning the area beyond the obstruction. The path led into the dense woods, a faint trail barely visible through the underbrush.

“I’ll go first,” you said, taking a step forward. “Stay close.”

Joel followed close behind, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. The two of you moved with practiced efficiency, navigating the difficult terrain with careful steps.

Once you reached a safer spot, you looked back at Joel. “We should make sure Ellie stays safe in the truck while we scout the area.”

Joel nodded in agreement. “Alright. Let’s head back and check on her.”

You made your way back to the truck, your senses still on high alert. As you reached the vehicle, Ellie looked up with a mix of concern and relief.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice edged with worry.

“Yeah, for now,” Joel replied, his gaze shifting back to you.

“We’ve got a way forward, but it’s going to be tricky. We need to keep moving.”

Just as you were about to get back inside the truck, a sudden, sharp crack split the air. The sound was immediately followed by a searing pain in your shoulder, knocking you back against the side of the truck.

“Shit!” Joel’s voice was a mix of shock and urgency as he turned, diving towards you. He pulled you away from the truck and crouched beside you, his face a mask of fear and determination. “Are you alright? Where were you hit?”

You winced, trying to focus through the pain. “Shoulder,” you gasped, your breath coming in short, painful bursts. “I—”

Another shot rang out, the bullet whizzing past dangerously close. Joel threw himself over you, pulling you closer to the truck. “Ellie, get down!” he shouted.

Ellie’s panicked eyes darted around as she scrambled to find cover inside the truck. “What the hell is going on?” she yelled, her voice trembling with fear.

Joel’s hands were already working to assess your injury, his movements quick and practiced. “You stay put,” he ordered, though his voice was gentler than the command. He ripped a strip from his shirt, pressing it against your shoulder to staunch the bleeding. “Ellie, stay inside and stay quiet. We need to figure out where those shots are coming from.”

You gritted your teeth against the pain, trying to keep calm. “Joel, we need to—”

“Not now,” Joel interrupted, his voice low but firm.

He moved with purpose, taking cover behind the truck and advancing toward the trees. You could hear the muffled sounds of gunfire as he engaged the unknown threat, each shot echoing through the woods. Your breaths came ragged, the pain in your shoulder a constant, throbbing reminder of the danger you were in.

Ellie peered out from the truck, her face pale with fear. “Is Joel gonna be, okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ignoring the sharp pain in your shoulder, you struggled to get out of the truck. Ellie’s eyes widened in panic. “What are you doing? Stay inside!”

“I can’t just sit here,” you insisted through gritted teeth, moving carefully but determinedly towards the edge of the truck. “Joel needs help.”

Your movements were slow and pained, but adrenaline pushed you forward. You gripped your bow tightly, using it as a crutch to steady yourself. Every step felt like a battle, but you forced yourself to keep going, the need to help Joel outweighing the pain.

As you reached the cover of the trees, you saw Joel crouched behind a large trunk, his eyes scanning the area. He spotted you immediately, his expression shifting from concentration to alarm. “What the hell are you doing out here? Get back to the truck!”

“I’m not leaving you,” you said firmly, your voice carrying a blend of determination and desperation. “I can help.”

Joel’s gaze softened for a moment, but he didn’t waste time with arguments.

You took the gun, nodding as you aimed it towards the area where you had seen the movement. Your hands were unsteady, but you focused on the shadows darting through the trees. With Joel’s guidance, you managed to locate the attackers, your aim steadying as you fired a few shots, trying to provide cover for Joel.

The sounds of gunfire continued to echo through the woods, but gradually, the attackers’ shots grew less frequent. Joel’s movements were precise and calculated as he picked off the remaining threats. The tension in the air began to lift, the immediate danger subsiding.

When the firing finally ceased, Joel emerged from his cover, moving quickly back to your side. “You shouldn’t have come out here,” he said, his voice rough with both relief and frustration.

“I couldn’t just leave you to handle it alone,” you replied, your breath coming in ragged bursts. “How bad is it?”

As you caught your breath, Joel’s relief was short-lived. From the corner of your eye, you saw Ellie running towards you, her face a mask of fear and urgency.

“They’re coming back!” Ellie shouted, her voice trembling. “They took the truck!”

Joel’s eyes widened in shock, his expression hardening with determination. “Damn it. We need to move, now.”

You barely had time to process the information before the sounds of footsteps and shouts echoed through the trees, getting closer. Panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to stay focused. “The journal!” you cried out, the thought hitting you like a jolt.

“What?” Joel asked not even processing the moment you ran out of his sight.

You sprinted back towards the truck, the urgency in your steps driven by the desperate need to retrieve your journal. The pain in your shoulder was now a distant throb compared to the rising panic. As you neared the truck, you could see the man who had earlier hurt you rummaging through the cab, apparently searching for anything of value.

Your heart pounded as you reached the truck. The man’s back was turned, and you seized the opportunity to grab your journal. Your fingers closed around it, and you yanked it free from where it had fallen.

Just as you were about to turn and run, the man spun around, his eyes locking onto you with a menacing glare. “Hey!” he shouted, recognizing you. His hand reached for his weapon, but before he could aim it, you raised your own gun, your aim steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Stay back!” you commanded, your voice firm, though it trembled slightly with fear. The man hesitated; the tension palpable as he assessed the situation.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” he growled, his expression a mix of anger and surprise.

Without another word, he lunged towards you. Reacting instinctively, you fired a shot. The bullet struck him in the shoulder, causing him to stagger back, a pained cry escaping his lips. He dropped his weapon and clutched his shoulder, glaring at you with fury and frustration.

You didn’t wait to see his next move. Gripping the journal tightly, you dashed back towards the cover of the trees where Joel and Ellie were. The sound of gunfire and shouting had intensified, blending with the thumping of your heart.

When you rejoined Joel and Ellie, the fury in Joel’s eyes was palpable. His face was set in a hard line, his jaw clenched tightly. He glanced at you with a mix of anger and relief as you came back, clutching the journal to your chest.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Joel's voice was sharp, cutting through the chaos. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

You tried to catch your breath, the weight of his anger hitting you hard. “I—” you started, but the words were caught in your throat. You knew he was right, but the urgency of retrieving the journal had felt so immediate, so necessary.

Joel’s eyes softened slightly as he saw the journal in your hands. “Is that really worth risking your life for?” he demanded, his frustration evident.

“Yes,” you replied firmly, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and resolve.

Joel’s frustration boiled over. Without warning, he snatched the journal from your hands and threw it to the ground, the impact sending it skidding across the dirt. The sound of the journal hitting the ground was sharp, and you watched in shock as it lay there, dust and dirt mingling with the pages.

“Damn it!” Joel shouted, his voice echoing through the trees. “This isn’t worth risking your life over! Not like this!”

You stared at the journal, your heart sinking as you saw it lying there, a symbol of everything you had been trying to protect. “Joel, no!” you cried out, stepping forward to retrieve it.

Joel moved quickly to block you, his face a storm of emotion. “Just... stop,” he said, his voice strained. “We can’t keep doing this. We can’t keep risking everything for things that can be replaced.”

The raw emotion in his voice cut through you, and for a moment, you could see how deeply he was affected by the constant danger. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure as you looked at him. “It’s not just a journal,” you said softly.

You bent down slowly, picking up the journal with careful hands, brushing off the dirt. You looked at Joel, your eyes meeting his with hurt.

Joel’s jaw was clenched as he watched you carefully retrieve the journal. His frustration was palpable, and though he wanted to say more, the sight of your hurt expression made him falter. His gaze shifted to the journal on the ground, and then back to you, his anger still simmering beneath the surface.

Ellie stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension with a mix of authority and concern. “Stop, Joel,” she said firmly. “She’s okay, right? That’s what matters now.”

Joel’s eyes softened as he looked at Ellie, his anger meeting the reality of the situation. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice low. “I guess you’re right.”

You carefully brushed off the last of the dirt from the journal and looked up at Joel. “I understand why you’re angry,” you said quietly. “I really do. But this journal...You don’t get it” you said, walking past him towards the new direction.

The old building was a welcome refuge, its once-abandoned state now offering a semblance of safety from the dangers outside. Inside, you set up a makeshift camp, trying to focus on tasks that would help you ignore the pain and tension.

Ellie had been quietly assisting you with cleaning and bandaging your shoulder wound. Her hands were careful, though her gaze occasionally flicked towards Joel, who was sitting a few feet away, his expression a mixture of guilt and frustration.

After a few hours, Joel finally rose from his seat, his movements deliberate. “Ellie,” he said, his voice firm but softened with an edge of weariness. “I’ll take it from here.”

Ellie looked at him with a mix of surprise and relief. “Sure thing,” she said, standing up and giving you a reassuring smile. “I’ll go check on our supplies.”

Joel moved closer; his eyes focused on your wound. “You doing okay?” he asked quietly, his hands steady as he started to clean the area with a fresh bandage and antiseptic. His touch was gentle, despite the roughness of his hands.

You looked at him, the silence between you feeling heavy. “I’m fine,” you replied, your voice quiet.

Joel’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the frustration and anger seemed to dissolve, replaced by a deep, aching concern. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I just… I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

You sighed, letting your gaze drop as you felt his hands working on your shoulder. “I understand,” you said softly.

Joel's hands paused momentarily, his voice carrying a hint of desperation. "No, don't give me that tone," he pleaded, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding.

You looked up, meeting his gaze with a mix of weariness and compassion. "I'm not trying to give you a hard time," you said quietly. "I know you’re scared. We all are. It’s just sometimes it feels like we’re caught in this endless cycle.”

Joel's expression softened, his fingers resuming their careful work. "I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t mean to take it out on you. It’s just... hard, you know? Seeing you get hurt, and having to face the fact that I can’t always protect you."

You sighed, wincing slightly as he adjusted the bandage. "We’re all just trying to survive. We’re all scared and doing the best we can."

Joel nodded, his eyes still fixed on your wound as he finished wrapping it, and placing a kiss over the bandage.

Joel finished wrapping the bandage and leaned in to place a tender kiss over the newly covered wound. The gesture was both soothing and deeply personal, a silent promise of his care and commitment.

You looked at him, feeling the warmth of his touch linger even as he pulled back. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice filled with gratitude.

Joel’s eyes met yours, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier,” he said quietly. “I was just... scared. Scared of losing you.”

Joel nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before he looked back up at you. “I just wish I could make it all easier,” he said, his voice carrying a note of frustration.

You took a deep breath, deciding to share something important. “The journal,” you began, “it wasn’t just any journal. It was from my sister. She… she gave it to me before everything went wrong. It’s all I have left of her. That’s why it means so much.”

He glanced at the torn pages. “I didn’t realize it meant so much to you,” he admitted, guilt heavy in his voice. “I didn’t mean to… to break it.”

You took a deep breath, finally looking up at him, tears in your eyes. “It was my sister’s,” you explained softly, your voice breaking. “We got separated when everything went to hell, and I never… I never found her again.”

Joel’s face softened, his eyes filling with a deep, aching sadness. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I’ve been writing in it,” you continued, your voice trembling, “like I was talking to her. Telling her what’s been happening, telling her about… about you, and Ellie… and the baby. I wanted to believe that maybe, somehow, she’d find it someday, and know that I never stopped looking for her, that I never gave up.”

Joel’s expression crumbled with understanding and regret. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his hand finally settling on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “I didn’t know. I never would’ve…”

“I know,” you replied, wiping a tear from your cheek.

Joel’s eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and understanding crossing his face. “I didn’t know,” he said quietly.

You nodded, feeling a bit of relief in having shared the significance of the journal. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” He said, “You helped me so much when I told you about Sarah,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “I should’ve understood why this means so much to you. I’m sorry.”

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his. “We’re all dealing with our own pain and loss,” you said softly. “It’s okay. We just have to keep supporting each other.”

Joel’s eyes met yours, a glimmer of appreciation in his gaze.

As you spoke, a sudden, low growl interrupted the moment. Both you and Joel looked down to see your stomach growling audibly, the sound breaking the tension between you.

Joel’s eyes widened in surprise, and then a chuckle escaped him, his earlier frustration momentarily forgotten. “Well, someone’s hungry,” he said, his tone lightening.

You felt a flush of embarrassment, but the sound of his laughter was a welcome relief. “I guess this one is hungrier than me.” You say.

Joel’s laughter deepened at your comment, and he shook his head with a fond smile. “Guess we’ve got a hungry little one in there,” he said, his tone softening. “We should definitely get some food in you.”

Ellie, catching on to the lighter mood, chimed in with a grin. “I think that’s a good idea. I’ll help,” she offered, heading towards the supplies.

“I think we’ve got some dried fruit left… maybe a bit of jerky.”

You chuckled quietly, shaking your head. “Anything will do,” you assured him. “I’m not exactly craving a five-star meal here.”

Joel nodded, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “Sit tight, I’ll get somethin’,” he said, moving toward the pack he’d dropped by the door.

As he rummaged through the bag, you took a moment to study him—his face lined with worry, his movements still a bit stiff.

He returned with a small handful of dried fruit and a bit of jerky, holding it out to you. “A feast for a queen,” he joked softly, though his eyes were still serious.

You took the food with a grateful smile, feeling a wave of love wash over you. “Thanks, Joel,” you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. He nodded, his thumb brushing against your hand as he handed over the food.

“Just tryin’ to take care of you,” he murmured. “Both of you.”

You smiled softly, a hint of warmth blooming in your chest despite the cold reality of the world outside. "I know," you whispered back. “And you are, Joel. More than you know.”

"Oh, I forgot," Joel said suddenly, turning back toward his bag. You watched as he rummaged around, pushing aside supplies until he seemed to find what he was looking for. He straightened up, a small smile playing on his lips as he held out a slightly crumpled chocolate bar. "Got this at Frank's house," he explained, his eyes twinkling a little.

Your eyes widened in surprise and delight as you took the chocolate bar from his hand. "Seriously?" you asked, a grin spreading across your face. "You’ve been holding out on me?”

Joel chuckled softly. “Just savin’ it for when we needed it most,” he replied, his tone light. “Figured it might come in handy, and I guess now’s as good a time as any.”

You looked down at the bar, your heart swelling at the thoughtfulness behind such a small gesture. Chocolate had become such a rarity—a luxury, even—that you hadn’t even thought of it in ages. "This is… thank you, Joel," you said softly, your fingers tracing the edge of the wrapper. “You have no idea how much this means.”

Joel gave a small shrug, but you could see the hint of satisfaction in his expression. “Just want you to have a little bit of comfort,” he murmured, his hand brushing your arm briefly. "You deserve it."

You felt a lump form in your throat, a mix of gratitude and affection. “You’re sweet, you know that?” you said with a playful smile, tearing open the wrapper.

He chuckled, his lips curling into a small, sheepish grin. “Don’t go spreading’ that around,” he muttered, his gaze softening as he watched you take a small bite.

You closed your eyes, savoring the taste, the rich, sweet flavor melting on your tongue. For a moment, the worries and fears faded away, replaced by a small, simple joy. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, opening your eyes to meet his.

Joel’s smile deepened, his hand settling on your shoulder as he leaned in a little closer. “Good,” he said softly. “You deserve perfect, even if it’s just a piece of chocolate.”

And for a moment, in that quiet, fragile space, it felt like everything might just be okay.

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his eyes full of warmth and a hint of something more. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. The touch was soft, tender, and you could feel the weight of his affection and apology in that simple gesture.

As he pulled back slightly, his expression searching yours, you heard a muffled, teasing voice from the other side of the room. “Gross,” Ellie said, her tone a mix of mock disgust and amusement. You turned to see her peeking out from under her blanket, a smirk playing on her lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound breaking the tension in the room. “Sorry, Ellie,” you said, trying to keep your voice light. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Just keep it PG, alright?” she said.

You reached into your bag and pulled out a piece of chocolate, offering it to Ellie with a playful grin. “Here, Ellie. Since you had to witness that, you deserve a treat too.”

Ellie’s eyes widened in mock surprise, and she grinned as she took the chocolate from your hand. “Thanks,” she said, unwrapping it with a bit of dramatic flair. “I guess I can’t complain about a bit of chocolate, even if it comes with a side of grossness.”

Joel chuckled softly, shaking his head at the banter between you and Ellie. “You two are something else,” he said with a smile, his earlier tension seemingly melted away by the lighthearted moment.

As you settled back with your own piece of chocolate, you felt a sense of calm and contentment that had been missing for a while. The simple pleasure of sharing a moment like this with Joel and Ellie, amidst the chaos and danger, made the world seem a little brighter.

Ellie took a bite of her chocolate, and her expression softened with genuine appreciation. “This is really good,” she said, her voice carrying a note of surprise. “Thanks for sharing.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your gaze meeting Joel’s once more.

As the night settled in, the room grew quieter. You could feel the exhaustion from the day catching up to you, and you rubbed your shoulder, still feeling the dull ache from the earlier injury.

Ellie yawned and stretched, then looked over at the lumpy couch against the wall. “Hey,” she said, her tone light and playful. “The pregnant lady deserves the couch.”

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, so now you’re feeling all generous?” you teased.

Ellie grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean, yeah. But only because I don’t want to hear you complain all night about sleeping on the floor.”

Joel chuckled from where he was standing by the window, keeping watch. “She’s got a point,” he added, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

You shook your head, feeling a warmth in your chest despite the soreness in your shoulder. “Alright, fine,” you said, pretending to be reluctant. “I’ll take the couch, but only because you insist.”

Ellie smirked. “Yeah, yeah, take it before I change my mind.”

You moved over to the couch, sinking down onto it with a grateful sigh. The cushions were worn, and it wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was better than the hard floor. “Thanks, Ellie,” you said, your voice more sincere now.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it. Just don’t hog all the blankets.”

Joel came over and draped a blanket over you, his touch lingering for a moment. “Get some rest,” he murmured softly, his eyes meeting yours with that familiar, protective look. “I’ll keep watch for a while.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the day settle in your bones. “Okay,” you whispered, pulling you whispered, pulling the blanket up around your shoulders.

Ellie flopped down onto the floor nearby, wrapping herself in her own blanket. “Goodnight, guys,” she mumbled, already sounding half-asleep.

“Goodnight, Ellie,” you replied, and then you turned to Joel. “And… thank you. For everything.”

Joel gave a small, almost shy smile. “Get some sleep,” he repeated, his voice softer this time.

A few hours later, the darkness of the room seemed to press in from all sides. The only sound was the soft, rhythmic breathing of Ellie, fast asleep nearby. You had drifted off into a restless slumber, the exhaustion of the day pulling you under.

But suddenly, you were jolted awake by a sharp, searing pain that shot through your stomach. Your eyes flew open, and you instinctively curled forward, your hand clutching at your abdomen. The pain was intense, radiating outward in waves, and it stole your breath, leaving you gasping in the quiet room.

You sat up abruptly, trying to steady your breathing. The room seemed to spin for a moment, and you felt a cold sweat break out across your skin. You gritted your teeth, pressing your hand firmly against your abdomen, as if that could somehow steady the panic coursing through you.

Joel, who had been keeping a watchful eye from across the room, noticed the change immediately. He was at your side in an instant, his face etched with concern. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” he whispered urgently, his hands hovering near you, unsure of what to do.

You struggled to speak, your breath coming in short gasps. “I… I don’t know,” you managed to say, fear lacing your words. “It just… it hurts.”

His brow furrowed, and his hand moved to your shoulder, squeezing it gently but firmly. “Okay, try to breathe through it,” he murmured, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed his worry. “It might just be… the stress or the baby kicking. We’ve been through a lot today.”

You nodded, closing your eyes for a moment, focusing on the rhythm of your breath. The pain had subsided slightly, but a nagging fear still clawed at the edges of your mind. “What if something’s wrong?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Joel’s grip tightened, his voice firm yet soothing. “Nothing’s wrong,” he insisted, his tone filled with determination. “We’re gonna get through this, okay? Just breathe… focus on me.”

You looked up at him, his steady gaze anchoring you as another twinge of pain rippled through your stomach, less intense this time. You forced yourself to nod, trying to push the fear down. “Okay,” you whispered, trying to trust his words, even as the anxiety lingered.

Joel continued to hold your gaze, his thumb gently brushing over your shoulder. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” he promised quietly. “Or the baby.”

You nodded again, trying to let his reassurance wash over you, even as a lingering dread whispered at the back of your mind.

But then, just as you began to feel the fear subside, a distant sound broke the stillness — a soft, almost inaudible creak coming from outside. Joel's eyes snapped toward the door, his expression instantly shifting to one of alertness.

He looked back at you, his eyes narrowed with concern. “Stay here,” he whispered, reaching for his gun. "Something's out there."

You held your breath, every nerve in your body suddenly on edge as you watched him move toward the door, the darkness outside seeming to press in, waiting.

And in that suspended moment, you felt it — the unmistakable sensation that something, or someone, was coming.

"Hey, little one,"

"I don’t know if you can feel it yet, but I hope you’re okay in there. I felt a pain that scared me more than anything has in a long time. Maybe it was just the stress, or maybe it was you letting me know you’re still there, and making your presence known.

I wish I could tell you everything is fine, that we’re safe, and there’s nothing to worry about. But the truth is, it’s hard out here. Harder than I ever imagined. Every day is a fight, a struggle to keep moving, to keep believing that there’s something better on the other side of all this. And some days, I wonder if I’m strong enough to do it — to keep us both safe, to bring you into a world like this."

"But then… I think of you. I think of holding you in my arms for the first time, feeling your heartbeat against mine, and suddenly, I know I have to keep going. For you."

"I’ve made some mistakes — like going after this journal, even when it wasn’t safe. I’m sure Joel would say it wasn’t worth it, but I need you to understand… this is all I have left of my sister. She was strong, like I want you to be. And she would’ve loved you, just like I already do."

"I don’t know what the future holds, but I promise you this: I’ll do everything I can to give you a chance. To give us both a chance. I won’t let fear win. I won’t let the darkness take that from us."

"So stay with me, little one. Hold on, just like I’m holding on to you. We’re in this together."

Always. “

Tags: @jasminedragoon @orcasoul @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa @eleganthottubfun @lumpypoll @cuteanimalmama @thespookywookies @goodvibesonly421 @karaslqve @greenwitchfromthewoods

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illyrian-dreamer · 9 months ago

Text

And Then There Were None – Part 1

Azriel/fem!reader

Synopsis: In the lead up to the war, Hybern releases a catastrophic spell that wipes out all humans, sparing just one.

Abandoned in the desolate human lands, you scavenge to survive long enough to find your family.

Reluctantly, you are found by the Shadowsinger as fate intervenes to guide you under his watchful eye.

Part 2>>>

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Death, blood, suggestions of miscarriage

Twigs snapped beneath your boots, your steps heavy with exhaustion as you stumbled through yet another town, as barren and deserted as the last one.

Exhaustion and dehydration weighed heavy, wisps of dust caking your skirts, your boots the only thing to disturb the rubble in days.

There was no concern for a carriage that might pull up behind, or a bossy merchant to yell at you to clear the path. While the ghosts of the life that once flourished echoed in closed shops and abandoned stalls, you stopped looking over your back days ago.

There were no plumes of smoke from chimneys, no distant chatter or laughter or cries. Safe from the occasional grunts or mews of abandoned cattle - there was not a single sign of life, and no human in sight for the past ten days.

A jarring cramp ripped from your abdomen, pulling you from delirium with urgency.

Water, food, bathe and sleep. That was why you were here.

You tried not to think about how quickly resources were depleting, even though you were sure you were the only one using them. Without people to treat water, the stagnant liquid became increasingly dangerous. And you couldn’t farm a vegetable to save your life, and had spent too long journeying to have tended to any crops.

You’d have to go further into the woods soon, find a fresh stream, perhaps hunt too. But you'd need strength for that, and you had just about run out.

At least it was spring, and at least the trees bloomed with fruit as you travelled from town to town, feet blistered and chapped. You cursed you parents for not teaching you formidable survival skills - fighting, hunting, even the ability to ride a gods damned horse would have been an incomparable luxury these past hellish days.

A clang of guilt, and frustration quickly churned to longing. Gods, you hoped they were alive. You would do anything to have them here, to journey this devastating isolation together, the little ones too. You prayed to the Mother for the umpteenth time that day that they were safe and well.

It was not a concern when you woke to an empty house almost a fortnight earlier. Your father was likely at the market, your mother hard at work at the tailor in town. Your siblings were hard to catch at this time of year, with school out of term and the warm spring air, they would spend each waking moment by the river if your parents let them.

It wasn't until you spotted your fathers wheelbarrow through the speckled glass of your kitchen window, held by rotting wood. Empty and unmoved, his tools lay flat on the ground, untouched since the day before. You could have sworn he told you he’d be at the market by dawn.

Scanning the room, your eyes flicked to the doorway where your mothers workbag lay untouched. Needles sat poked in balls of yarn as stray thread sprawled over leather - but an eery stillness sang to you at your parent’s tools.

Names and calls went unanswered, and after a quick search of the home you ran outside, urgent to ask your neighbours where they had gone, your heart fastening with every step.

Too frantic to observe the lack of movement and noise from your own street, you rapped on the door, waiting only a few seconds to push the rattling screen and forcing your way in.

Names went unanswered again, and it was instinct that steered you straight for the nursery. You halted at the sight of new born's empty crib, blankets rippled as if the babe was taken straight from it’s sleep.

Your calls turned frantic as you scoured each room, an upsetting, looming sensation creeping over your skin.

Bursting from the home, you shielded your eyes from the bright sun as you scanned the street with urgency. Your only greeting was a quiet breeze and snort of a horse left abandoned by a cart - as if it had stopped it's journey halfway through.

In a panicked haze, you searched the next home, and the next, and the next. The dizziness found you then.

Clearly there was an emergency of some kind. But you had been abandoned, left to sleep until midday amongst the quiet. The thought pained you.

More calls to anyone who might have stayed behind, yet still no answer. Your heart was a thunder in your ears.

Had the war finally reached you? Had your family fled in the dead of the night? You shook the thought from your head – they would have woken you, would have needed your help to escape with the youngens.

And then you were running – yelling, sprinting through the dusty streets, voice breaking as you dashed from home to home, shop to shop, calling, crying, pleading.

You were utterly alone. You had been left there, alone.

In a swarm of panic, you pressed a palm at your heart, willing yourself to calm. It was a dream, surely. You were not abandoned, only stuck in a nightmare, the kind that often found you as murmurs of Hybern’s army reaching human lands became louder.

In that dizzying thought, you willed yourself awake, forcing your eyes open to the walls of your dark and cramped room, to the noises as your siblings shouting and playing from downstairs, to the whistle of the kettle and the creak of the wood as your father came to wake you.

But the light was blinding, the sun as true as the your abandonment.

Beads of sweat that ran down your neck, a gnawing anxiousness building in your stomach as it heaved and cramped, nausea and panic churning to one.

Something truly terrible had happened.

And in that moment of utter disbelief, a stabbing pain ripped from your stomach, so great it forced a whimper from your throat.

As silent trickles of blood ran from your thighs to your knees, tracing your calves beneath the fabric of your skirt, you found a numbing sort of courage. Pushing your legs forward, you mindlessly heeded the road out of your home town, and on to the next.

People. You needed to find people.

————

Ten days, and still not a single sole in sight. Each home, each tavern, each market and farm left eerily untouched.

The silence was enough to drive you mad, if not besides the aide you so desperately sought. This was not your cycle - although the pains were familiar. You had known what you were, what this was.

Almost a fortnight, yet the blood still came. Slower now, spotting instead of trickles. You had stolen clothing from abandoned shops, food and water too. But you were distraught, moments away from folding into utter madness. And you were weak – very, very weak.

Water, food, a bath and rest. A list you repeated to yourself, your body begging to prioritise sleep with every step as you approached a farm at the town’s edge.

With a weak hand, you pushed past the gate to the yard, large rusty barrels sat open where a cow and her calf now drank. The water was murky with a distinct smell, but it would have to do. Tomorrow, you’d find fresh water tomorrow.

The trembling hand that dipped to the cool water hardly looked like your own. Dirt lay thick under your nails, your skin littered with cuts from the countless times you had shattered windows of stores and traders homes, scouring the stock for preserved goods and weapons.

Bringing the cool liquid to your lips, you ignored the taste of iron as you willed it to soothe your throat - hoarse from the endless calls that went unanswered.

Ears pricking at sudden growl behind you, you jerked at the site of a pack of dogs who approached on stealthy paws. Their eyes were hungry - flicking between you and the calf. Once loyal farming dogs you were sure, now abandoned by owners and left to fend for themselves. They had formed packs - clever things. While you were sure they couldn't kill you, you didn't have the strength to fight an infection if they got close enough to sink their teeth.

From your side, you unsheathed the hunting knife you had looted from a previous town. Swinging it with unpracticed skill, you shouted at the pack, your heart thundering as you waited for them to recline on hindered paws and leap.

They pack seemed to weigh you up, deciding the calf was an easier target. You fled inside the house before you could see it meet it’s end.

The home was neat, and you almost cried at the sight of a loaf of bread sitting atop the kitchen counters. Mould had attacked it’s edges, but you tore at it, fisting mouthfuls of the centre, dry crumbs coating your throat it was an effort not to choke.

Your stomach lurched, unhappy with the quality of the food and water, but you didn't care. You were on step closer to rest.

Another jarring cramp from your stomach, and you faltered, gripping at the wooden table as you trembled to keep yourself upright. This ailment, how much longer would you last? Sleep begged at you, your body moments from giving out. You’d have to forgo the bath, and prayed to the mother you’d find the strength for it in the morning.

Forcing yourself to the bedroom, swaying with each stumbled step, consciousness was already slipping as you collapsed on the bed, clothes and boots in tact.

————

It was a feverish sleep, your body doused in sweat as you stirred often, jolting awake in panics, phantom calls of your family mixed with the flap of wings, and the crunch of stone and rock under heavy boots.

Then a voice, voices – ones you were sure they were part of your slumber.

But as those footsteps got closer, you woke in a startle, your heart fastened as you blinked furiously.

Voices. Humans. People. Alive, well enough to talk.

You leapt from the bed, ignoring the spin of your head as you clambered to the window, peering behind sheer drapes to the street in front.

Your stomach sank. Lurched. Then sank again.

A large, demonic figure stalked for the home. Wings arched behind it’s head, it’s figure blackened by the leathers it bore, sword and knives strapped around.

And, wisps of some kind. Deadly, reaping magic.

Fae.

Fae had come.

Knees buckling, you stumbled back a few steps.

The world around you reeled as adrenaline coursed through. You would have just moments to prepare if you wanted a chance to survive.

Knife. Your hunting knife. Still strewn at your hip.

Grasping it’s hilt tightly with a trembling hand, you scanned the room for the best place to hide.

The cupboard was too obvious, and there was room under the bed - but there’d be not enough to swing your knife, only enough for them to drag you by the ankle…

The gentle click of the front door opening, and it took all you had not to whimper in panic.

Scrambling for the door as quietly as possible, you pressed your palm to your mouth, begging yourself not to cry as you pressed yourself behind the wood.

From what you could hear over the thunder of your heart, the steps of the fae were quiet despite it’s size.

“Anything in there?” a deep voice boomed from the street. You jolted at the volume. More than one, then.

There was no reply from the creature in the home, only the creak of the wood as it made it’s way through.

“Really, Azriel? Are we to check every home?” Female this time, impatience and ignorance laced in the somehow ancient voice.

No response again, instead a footstep, right by the door.

Something tickled your ankles then, and it was beyond you to stifle your compulsive scream.

Black furling wisps coated your boots.

And then the door opened.

The creature made it one step inside before you had aimed your knife for it’s heart.

A prepared, cool hand caught your wrist inches from it’s chest. Your bones crushing in it’s grasp, and you let out a yelp of pain.

It’s face - his face - was one of shock. “S-sorry,” he stuttered, dropping his grip all together.

You blinked back in shock, ignoring at the throb of your wrist as you snatched it back.

For a dumb moment, you stared at each other with equally wide eyes. The male didn't seem to know what to do.

“You’re human? How are you here, where-?"

The males sentence was clipped short as you drove the knife towards his chest again.

Quick as an asp, he caught you by the forearm this time, more gently too.

Hazel eyes scanned you, his features schooling as he called over his shoulder. “I’ve found someone.”

You were sure you looked mad, grunting with the effort to pull your arm from him, breaths ragged, eyes and hair wild. The male studied you as he might a rabid animal.

Behind him appeared an even taller male, his form more terrifying than the one that gripped you.

“Mother above,” the new one whispered, scanning you in the way the first one had.

“L-let go of me,” you rasped, pulling your arm back, tears stinging at the pain of you surely broken wrist began to swell.

It was a odd detail to note, the scars and ripples of the fae’s hand as he gently unfurled your fingers, prying the hunting knife from you before releasing his grip.

“Let me see,” the female’s voice piped from behind, the males struggling to fold their wings further, cramming into the room to let her through.

You faltered back on instinct, legs hitting the edge of the bed.

As the female broke through the males, harsh silver eyes scanned you up and down. She was half their height, a little shorter than you actually, but the depth of her gaze kept your hands by your side.

“Seems the Mother has spared one after all,” she muttered, nose crumpling at your scent.

Your answered with a scowl.

“What is your name?” it demanded.

“Amren,” the taller male warned, his eyes flicking back to you with softness.

You refused to answer. Couldn’t if you wanted to.

Amren sighed, casting her head sideways to the one with rippled hands. “She bleeds.”

“I know,” he answered, hazel eyes not breaking from you. You blushed, furious and humiliated.

He stepped around her then, the movement graceful and soft despite his size.

“You need aide.”

You gulped, unable to process his words. “L-leave me be,” you demanded, voice hoarse as you tried to create more distance between you and it.

He crouched in front of you then, leathers stretching against ripples of muscle. You noticed them then, jewels, saphires, humming from his body as if they were alive.

He followed your eyes curiously, before answering you with a soft smile.

“These are siphons,” he said plainly, giving one a friendly tap.

You snapped your eyes back to him, disgust forming your features. “You are here on behalf of Hybern?”

The female snorted from behind, earning a shove from the larger male beside her, his siphons glowing red.

The one in front of you studied you. “No, absolutely not.”

You scowled, not inclined to believe them.

“We come one behalf of our High Lord Rhysand, and High Lady Feyre. Rulers of the Night Court. Do you know of them?”

Feyre - the human women who had freed the fae from the grasp of their enemy. You knew the story, the heroic tale of a human women who gave her life for the male she loved. Had heard of her triumphs Under the Mountain, that she had been made into fae herself in exchange for her sacrifice.

“The-the curse breaker?”

A small smile cocked on both of the males faces.

“That’s right,” the one crouched in front answered. “She sent us to retrieve you.”

A panic surged within you. “Me?” you spat. Oh the ignorance of the fae, as if you were some pawn to pluck and place elsewhere.

Azriel frowned, eyes dancing as he realised the mistake in his words. “To help you, of course. There has been-"

"No-n-no. My family, they will seek for me-"

Azriel's brow pulled with softness, his tone falling flat. "We will search for them. Meanwhile, you must see a-"

“Where are the others?” Your voice was louder now, eyes dancing in panic, chest rising with fastening breaths. Had they taken them too? “The people, they've left, I don't know-"

“We are searching for others. You are… the first we have found.”

Your mind reeled. How could that be? You had searched by foot - but with those wings, and the strength and power of fae…

“WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE OTHER HUMANS?” the volume of your voice shocked even yourself, that strength, that demand from deep within your chest.

Azriel gave you a pained look, before standing to turn to his counterparts. “Amren, can you heal-?”

“I’m spent,” she cut off the male with a flick of her fingers. “Those canines out back were hardly enough to keep me going until sundown, so forget about healing. Unless you suggest I drink her blood, though I doubt she’d survive.”

Mother above.

You were too hazed to see the glare both of the males cut her.

“Then she will need to see a healer before we can continue.”

“She might refuse,” the larger one countered.

“If she’s smart, she won’t. She won't survive out here on her own,” Amren muttered, cleaning her nails as she leaned one on leg, checking her cat-like claws for flecks of blood.

They continued their mutter without once turning to you.

“There is no option here. I’ll take her to Velaris, and return once she’s safe.”

A shaking, blubbering anger grew within you, the creatures in front of you as ignorant and obnoxious as you had always been told fae are – to discuss your own fate as if you weren't in the room.

A killer instinct flared in you then, and you remembered the second knife you bore, hidden within your corsette. A pocket knife, a tool from your father to help pit and peel the fruit from his farm.

The oak handle was cool in your left hand, the right throbbing and limp. With the last remains of energy, you pushed up from the bed, swinging with all your strength - aiming for the blue-siphoned back.

In a graceful turn, the male caught your arm for the third time. You had to blink at the speed with which he stopped you.

Bracing for cruel, unforgiving anger, you were instead met with sympathetic eyes.

Loathing coiled within you.

“Release me,” you spat.

“I’m sorry to do this,” was all he said, and then pads of those rippled fingers were grasping your jaw, pressing to the pressure points of your neck with precision.

Grunting to fight his grasp, you didn’t struggle long before a ringing in your ear grew to defeating silence and the world tipped to black.

Part 2 >>> AN: HELLLOOO! And welcome to ATTWN - massive shout out to @kindasleepywriter for finding the perfect name for this series! I so so hoped you liked part 1. I edited it like a million times, still not 100% happy with it, but I think I just needed to get it out. Fair warning - this fic won't be light hearted, our reader is going to go through some really heavy stuff. I'll of course put my warnings ahead of each part, but please know I plan to explore some darker themes surrounding mental health etc. If you'd like to join the tag list for this fic, let me know in the comments! Always love hearing your feedback, and thank you so much for reading! <3 Nic

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audioroleplayconfessions · 23 days ago

Note

i dont want to reveal my identity (youll see why in a sec lol) so im saying this here rather than my main account cause im relatively well known in redacted tumblr (annnd im a pussy and this is sort of weighing on me a bit).

i dont know how to say it but there are these chats?? like mainly on discord and instagram and i think some other places too (idk i dont have twitter or x or whatever but i think theres one there too) where people have lists of these accounts they dont like and resolve to 'punish them'. im sure im explaining this terribly but i cant really say much without the people in these chats instantly knowing who i am and adding me to their insane hate pile puritan police bullshit.

i got added to one of the discord chats in august by a mutual from a redacted server i was in (not the main one like some fan one from tumblr) and genuinely? it is fucking insane. think genuine csi shit. like sorting people into who supports 'problematic ships' and 'supports problematic characters' or who are 'rape apologists' or even just 'icky' and genuinely allocating certain people to harass and threaten them. and i mean seriously organising. as in scheduling when to spam anons or making hate posts or trying to work out their real identities to 'drill the lesson in' (actual quote).

whats worse is that many bigger accounts in the fandom are in these chats. like people ive been friendly with for months (if not years) who i thought were cool, but then act completely different there. i wont name drop or anything, mainly to respect the rules of this blog and preserve my own identity (cause god knows they dont deserve that after some of the shit theyve said and done), but if youre in redacted tumblr, you defintely know at least some of them. 100% you do.

ive gone out of my way to warn some of these accounts ive seen on there frequently (so if you got an anon warning you about these chats hello!! its me!!) but i cannot understate how fucking crazy they are. not only do these supposed 'progressive accepting people' resort to misogyny, transphobia, homophobia and racism (esp this one, jesus the slurs) towards any account they dont like, they also genuinely view themselves as these insane moral authorities set on 'cleansing the fandom of the filth' (another actual quote from one of the discord chats. i genuinely had to take a lap after reading it bc it was so cringe and insane it physically hurt)

i swear im telling the truth with this btw, i know it sounds so stupid and unbelievable but i just needed to get it out of my system because ive been lurking in this chat and i feel kinda responsible for all the hate these poor people are getting, since im not standing up against them. so to anyone whos received heavy hate for 'problematic opinions' im really fucking sorry man. i shoulda tried to put a stop to it but there were so many big accounts there i was afraid of getting ostracised from the community or targeted myself.

anyway, point is. be careful. watch ur faves. and god, everyone in this moral brigade stop being so fucking demented. youre making this unfun for everyone.

(thank you for giving a space for me to speak about this btw bc i genuinely dont know how i wouldve told people widescale otherwise. i really appreciate the space you provide for us all <33 )

#anonymous confessions #audio roleplay #redacted audio #redacted fandom

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hogwartslegacyreactions2 · 7 months ago

Note

Hey, I'm pretty sure that this was asked before, but I can't find the post.

What if MC died in the repository instead of professor Fig?

(I'm sorry, but I'm in an angsty mood)

I love your posts, and thanks

A/N: I do have vague recollection of answering a similar prompt once upon a time, but nothing wrong with a reprisal!

HLC REACT TO MC DYING IN THE REPOSITORY

WARNING: angst, death, grief

Dark ancient magic flew violently through the air around MC. The whirlwind of human agony consumed them as they released silver blue light from their wand. The magic thrashed and roared as MC expelled more and more effort to contain the chaos. Cracks started to form along the length of their wand.

Time slowed for them. MC could see Fig's silhouette just beyond the veil. The hundreds of young souls above them weighed heavy on their conscience. If they can't do this, everyone will die. They had to use all of it.

MC closed their eyes and whispered their goodbye. A light even brighter than the one from their wand emerged from their chest. The ancient magic within them burst forth with the fury of dragonfire. The silver light merged with the darkness, and as quickly as it had appeared, the magic vanished.

MC was gone. Their broken wand was all that remained.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He has officially lost everything. After losing his uncle, Anne, Ominis, and MC all at once, he's cracking. They can't be gone. Not them. They were too powerful to just vanish. He just has to find them. Yes. That's what he needs to do. He leaves Hogwarts. He MUST find them. Then Anne will see. Then Ominis will know. What he did was worth it.

OMINIS GAUNT: He rarely speaks anymore. The silence in his life has become so oppressive it took his own voice. The good life he thought he had was nice while it lasted, but now it's all come apart. It's only a matter of time before he loses Anne too, and when that happens...he doesn't know what he's going to do with himself.

ANNE SALLOW: She doesn't know how to feel about MC's death. On the one hand, they were trying to be a good friend to her and her brother but on the other...they also enabled Sebastian in his treachery. She's so very tired of the pain. She just wants to go to sleep.

IMELDA REYES: Well, damn. Mc was the closest thing to a friend she had in years. Someone competitive but friendly and fun to have around. They could dish out as much sass as she could, and she respected them for it. She cries a little at the end of year feast.

NATSAI ONAI: She should have been there. She could've done something! Why didn't they tell her!? She would've had their back! She....she...she breaks down into sobs so intense, even her mother can't comfort her. Her best friend was dead. Her heart was shattered and it would never be whole again without MC.

GARRETH WEASLEY: What? No. Nonono. Not them. That's impossible. They couldn't be dead. They're too strong to be.... He's in denial all the way until the MC's memorial service at the end of year feast. Then he breaks down. A bit of his fire died with MC.

LEANDER PREWETT: He wasn't super close to them, but he was still quite fond of them. They were a real friend. He hopes they're at peace and raises a goblet in their honor.

AMIT THAKKAR: He feels cold and numb all at once when he hears the news that MC died in the attack. He'd grown to care about them. He cursed himself for not spending more time with them when they were around.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He and MC didn't talk much outside of flying class but he had liked them. It was a shame he didn't get to know them more. He doesn't feel like eating when the feast is presented.

POPPY SWEETING: She hadn't cried this much since she left her parents. She finally made a friend, and just like that, they were gone. She doesn't know if she could make another friend again if she wanted to. Was she just doomed to lose every human connection she made?

ELEAZAR FIG: He wholeheartedly and inconsolably blames himself. Even if this fate couldn't be avoided, why did they have to die so young? He can't stand to hear the words "ancient" and "magic" in the same sentence at the same time anymore. It sends him into a dissociative trauma spiral.

He finds MC's wand. It's snapped in the middle with bits of wood frayed outward like the very core of the wand exploded. The two pieces are held together by the slightest sliver of wood.

He retires from teaching at Hogwarts. He doesn't trust himself with the care of students anymore. He doesn't trust his own judgment. He's tortured every night by the survivor's guilt taunting him that he should have done more. He should have protected them. He shouldn't have let them go as far as they did. They weren't ready. They couldn't handle the power they were forced to control. It takes everything in him to not attempt to destroy the map room with the portraits of the Keepers. He just leaves.

But every once in a while... On quiet moonless nights.... When he sees MC's wand displayed with Miriam's, he hears a whisper. A quiet breathy whisper that he could swear on his life sounds like MC. He chalks it up to the fact that he could be going mad from grief, but it's still strikes him as strange... If he looked at the wand hard enough... He could swear he sees a blue glow...

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #imelda reyes #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #amit thakkar #everett clopton #poppy sweeting #tw death #tw grief #angst

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adventuringblind · 11 months ago

Note

Hi, I noticed (mainly bc u read a lot of your work) that you write a lot of dark/ self harm based/themed fics so I was wondering if you would be comfortable with writing a lestappen x reader with an Ed. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to so ofc feel free to ignore

(Your work is always very well written and I look forward to reading what you post next)

One for you and One for me

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Angst/hurt comfort

Summary: Nobody is immune to the toxicity of social media, Charles and Max help their girl through it

Warnings: HEAVY ED, toxic media, body dysmorphia, sexual acts are mentioned but nothing happens

Notes: You must be psychic because I you sent this while I'm struggling with my own ED. I hope this helps you as much as it did me! 😊

Masterlist

Social media is something that everyone seems to revolve around. In theory, it could be great. Getting to see photos of friends and family and updates from celebrities you wouldn't otherwise interact with.

But here's the catch: in practice, the entire thing falls apart. People are left with images of things that are unachievable. Photoshop and filters have become everyone's new best friends. People put only their best foot forward and try to look as perfect as possible.

And those who don't? The ones who are criticized? The ones who will never meet that expectation? They are left trying to swim to the surface of a never-ending ocean. Drowning under the weight never being enough.

So, they do what they can. Nothing can be that bad if it makes them feel better, right? What's one meal skipped every day to cut back on calories?

In her case, she'd cut it all out. The idea of perfection and control weigh heavy in the pit of her stomach. The one that is currently growling as she weighs herself for the fifth time that day alone.

It's addicting, really, the feeling she gets from having gone another hour without a meal. The elation of seeing the scale drop in number.

The media and fans had been all over her appearance after going public with Max and Charles. She'd tried to ignore, but there was a piece of her looking for an excuse to dive back into the habits of her teenage years.

Her mother said she never looked like she had an eating disorder. Her father only started compliment her on her appearance once she was significantly underweight.

Max and Charles had been there for the fall. Her habits finally catching up to her when she started working with Redbull. She didn't have the energy to keep up with the schedule and one day had simply collapsed.

She'd gotten better. Promised the two boys they would never be on the verge of losing her like that again.

Now here she is, breaking that promise over the triple header by not eating at all. She'd started slowly, but now she has a chance to speed things up before the two boys notice anything. Too busy to really pay attention to her weight.

Maybe it would've been better if they hadn't been caught eating together. The fans might have a little less leverage to use on her. Maybe if she wasn't wearing something more revealing to a party in Monaco then they wouldn't have noticed how she looks.

The number on the scale is far from perfect, but it'll do for now. She slips on her teamwear that is looser than it was a few days ago. A satisfied but tired smile plays on her lips as she walks out the door.

The paddock is busy prior to the race. cameras are everywhere and she does her best to avoid them. Thankful her job is away from the majority of people. The less the cameras see of her, the better. A small part of her wonders if it would simply be better to disappear or become invisible. Maybe if she's thin enough, she'll be invisible from the side.

The day seems to drag on. The race is good and ends with both Max and Charles on the podium. It's the last race of the triple header meaning they will want to celebrate properly tonight. Maybe they will compliment her more now that she's lost weight. There is a prominent gap in her thighs and maybe will even be light enough for them to carry. The though makes her swoon.

The cheery conversation in the car quickly turns to logistics. Plans for dinner are made and she claims to have eaten while finishing up her work. To hungry to wait any longer.

There is a hesitant pause. They like knowing she ate with visible proof. That being the reason they eat together or at least someone is there to tell she ate if asked. Even if it's a bite.

They don't mention it. Charles orders in while Max drags her out of ear shot. She assumes it's because he is pent up, nothing surprising after a race. But nothing happens and she is left mildly disappointed.

Max cups her face. "I'm sorry we've been so busy."

"That's not your fault."

"No, but-" Max looks hesitant. "We know you haven't been eating. You're exhausted and your clothes don't fit. We can feel your bones when we hold you at night." She looks at Max in horror. "We thought maybe if we just made sure you felt comfortable that you would come to us but it's bad again."

Charles puts hands on her hips. "We'll take it slow, like last time. But please, we love you too much to see you become a shell of yourself again."

They say in that embrace until there is a knock at the door. Max is quick to answer it. He comes back holding their dinner. An extra box sits on top. One she assumes is for her.

"We got you a small salad. Nothing massive, no dressing, just vegetables." Max sets it all out on the table. They keep up casual conversation, so she doesn't feel horribly uncomfortable. Until they notice she is just playing with her food.

"How about, we continue talking, but we take turns taking bites? If you manage three, we'll call it a night," suggests Charles. Goal setting was helpful last time around. One week she took one bite of every meal, the next was two, and so on.

She manages three bites. Each of her own followed by one of theirs.

They all clamber into bed afterwards. Exhaustion hits her hard.

No, it's not perfect or straightforward. Relapses happen but healing is full of ups and downs. But she has people who care and who love her for who she is, not what she looks like. They'd rather her be healthy then bringing herself to the brink of collapse. And she loves them enough to try her best which is all they can ask for.

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writerpeach · 2 years ago

Text

Never Safe For Work

Dreamcatcher Gahyeon x m!reader

word count: 14k

The long-awaited return to the Dreamcatcher Office series

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

Universally, it went without saying that nobody in their right mind liked Mondays, for obvious reasons. But Tuesdays? Those were the real fucker.

The beginning of the work week always started the same way. Monday mornings were nothing but meetings, meetings, and more meetings. So that meant Tuesdays were not just four days left to endure, but time spent dealing with the aftermath from those endless hours of time spent discussing problems, budgets, and other mundane matters—time that could have easily been spent working on more crucial responsibilities.

Each hour passed felt longer than the previous one. Every minute dragged on as if it would never end.

Early morning hours were the most troublesome part of the day to get through, weighed down by never-ending tasks daunting for an entire team, let alone one person. Not that the rest of the week’s schedule wouldn’t be any better, always filled, with the following day more hectic than the last one.

While the weekend seemed so out of reach, somehow you mustered up the energy to tackle your responsibilities, but even the simplest task felt difficult to do before your regularly scheduled trip to the vending machine and a refill of coffee. Equipped with a hot mug, alongside your second headache of the day, you sorted through dozens of emails about new projects from your bosses, other clients, and business partners. And just when you finished one task, another would be assigned to you, another plate to spin, another fire to put out.

Despite how early it was, you needed a break—caffeine wasn’t doing its job properly, so maybe you needed an extra dose, a shot of espresso from the fancy machine in the break room that you never touched for fear of breaking it. But before you could even get out of your chair, before you could stretch your arms, a loud knock at the door interrupted your countless thoughts.

Great.

Almost nothing good came from a knock at the door before noon. Usually, your superiors would call your office when they needed something, but when they needed to show up in person—that was when you were doomed. So, with dreadful anticipation as to which boss would further ruin your day, you waited for the door to open, half expecting flames to appear on the other side.

But when the door creaked open and the figure standing in the doorway did not sport a pair of devil horns, you let out an enormous sigh of relief that it was only your assistant, Gahyeon. It wasn’t that she didn’t cause problems of her own, yet at least she wasn’t here to chastise you about an impending deadline or shove a brand new project to your already massive pile of work.

"Good morning, boss,” Gahyeon said as she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, her mouth twisted into a less than genuine smile.

“You look pretty busy.” Nothing she could have said would be more obvious other than calling water wet. With a heavy sigh, you glared at her and tried to keep your annoyance in check. Given the evident stack of documents on your desk, you couldn’t afford to waste any time today.

"You’re late, Gahyeon. Once again. It’s half past ten, and you were supposed to be here over an hour ago.”

Upon entering the office, Gahyeon shrugged without a care in the world, but at least had the courtesy to shut the door so you could reprimand her in private. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

That annoying smirk on her face made it even worse. You wouldn’t have been so annoyed with her if she hadn’t done this during one of the busiest weeks of the year. Nearly three months had gone by since you promoted Gahyeon to fulltime and made her your personal assistant. Essentially, it was the same job but with increased responsibilities and higher expectations, but you were beginning to regret it when she fell back on old habits.

“Well, I’ve done all the heavy lifting already since you couldn’t bother to show up when I actually needed you. There’s not much left to do right now. Go get some coffee or something.”

“But I don’t like coffee…” Gahyeon pouted, always finding an excuse to fight back against even the smallest command.

With the last of your worn patience razor-thin, you resisted the urge to snap at her while rolling your eyes practically out of your head. There was little you wanted to deal with right now, but if she was here, then you’d find some purpose for her. "Then go get something else to drink, Gahyeon. Just be back here within five minutes."

As Gahyeon left the room, you took a deep breath and rubbed your temple. Having such an unreliable assistant just added more stress, especially when she often had to be micromanaged at every moment. Your one hope would be that Gahyeon took her new position more seriously and became a valuable asset to the team, rather than a hindrance. The last thing you needed was someone to babysit.

Trying to put a dent in your many, many emails, Gahyeon returned with a bottle of fruit juice in hand, plopped down in a chair in front of your desk and took a sip, an unnerving smile etched on her smug features. She wiped her mouth, leaving a lipstick stain on the bottle as she placed it on your desk.

"You look like you could use a break, boss," she said in her usual cocky tone. Again—nothing had been more obvious.

“I could always use a break,” you replied, raising an eyebrow while you looked up from your monitor. “But that’s not a luxury we have. There’s a lot of work to be done, and not enough time to do it.”

Growing more frustrated, you looked back at your monitor, then back at Gahyeon, who hadn't moved aside from continuing to sip her fruit juice. You took a good look at her—with everything going on, her outfit hadn’t caught your attention until now. When Gahyeon was an intern, you would typically ignore it as long as her attire didn't deviate too far from the office dress code, but now that she held a place on your team, there was an expectation to dress more professional. However, every day she showed up she seemed to wear something that the higher-ups would consider wildly inappropriate.

“Gahyeon, what have I told you about your work attire?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Gahyeon looked down at her outfit, puzzled as if she wasn’t wearing anything out of the ordinary. Which, if it were up to you, would be fine—but even if you didn’t make the rules, it was your responsibility to make sure that everyone who worked underneath you followed them.

“Do I really need to answer that? A skull tie, ripped stockings, and those boots? This is a professional environment, Gahyeon,” you said, letting your frustrations all out. “And you’re expected to dress as such. You’re not that clueless intern anymore, you’ve moved up. You represent this company now, so when I ask tasks to be run and our clients show up and see you like that—”

“But I like the way it looks…I like being comfortable.”

Like always, Gahyeon missed the point, and you could feel the throbbing ache in your temple again.

“Gahyeon, do you think I like wearing these stuffy collared shirts? Or these boring, constricting ties? No, I hate them, but I deal with it.”

Before continuing, you let out a deep breath. “I don’t ask for much. Just that you show up on time and wear work-appropriate clothing. Yet you’ve failed to do both today. When I decided to hire you, it was because you promised me that you would take this position seriously, but if you won’t—then I can easily find somebody else who will.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down, boss. Tomorrow, I’ll wear one of your ugly little ties. And high heels. I promise.”

“Just be professional.”

“Aren’t I always? I’ll wear my best outfit. You won’t even recognize me.”

Gahyeon wasn't the same intern she was a year before, despite her sometimes acting like it. You had a feeling she would come around eventually, she just needed a little push in the right direction.

“So…is there anything I can help with, boss?” Gahyeon asked, even if it was a bit too little too late.

After a long pause, she leaned against your office desk, looking around at cluttered reports, financial documents, endless proposals, and worst of all—an entirely too empty coffee mug. Out of frustration, you laughed—because what didn't you need help with?

“Everything,” you said, slumping back in your chair. “I need to finish looking over these reports so I can have them sent to Minji. I’ve got weeks of expenses that need to be tallied up so Siyeon can reimburse me. There’s a video meeting with our new business partner in an hour and I haven’t even begun to prepare for it yet. And on top of that, every time I take a sip of coffee, my inbox keeps filling up. I just—”

Letting out a sigh of defeat, your voice sounded more and more strained. To make matters worse, Gahyeon hopped atop your desk, interrupting any chance to finish more work. She crossed her legs before reaching forward and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Boss, you’re stressed. And your muscles are so tense. It sounds like you need a massage. Do you want me to give you one?”

“That’s not what I need, Gahyeon. I just need you to help me look over these reports.”

“But that’s so boring,” she whined, pouting those sultry lips in disappointment. Having little energy left to endure her presence, you could feel your headache coming back.

“That’s why it’s called work, we’re not at a theme park. You asked what I needed help with, so this is what I need help with. Maybe after we finish, then you can give me a massage.”

Gahyeon wasn't pleased with your response, as evidenced by the look in her eyes. Refusing to sit idly, she lifted herself up off your desk and slid onto your lap before you could say another word, swinging her legs over to one side, so the weight of her generous butt rested on your thigh. But she couldn’t help but fiddle with your tie, flashing a flirtatious glance in your direction.

“You smell good, boss. New cologne?” Gahyeon asked, leaning in much closer until her face became mere inches from yours, with her seductive lips dangerously close. It became impossible to avoid her gaze, and you were inclined to lift her petite frame anchored on your lap. However, it didn't really matter because fighting Gahyeon's charm was a hopeless battle.

“I don’t wear cologne. But you need to get off me, you’re being a distraction.”

Gahyeon didn’t care—rarely did she ever, with the only goal to get whatever she wanted. “Take it easy boss, you’ll pop a blood vessel. A little break won’t hurt, will it?”

“If I had time for a break, I would take one.” Whenever Gahyeon lingered around, you only grew more and more frustrated with each passing second.

“There’s always time for a break…” Gahyeon said, always refusing to make work a priority. “Maybe you should take a short one, boss? It’s not good for your health if you keep this up. Besides—isn’t this what you hired me for?”

Your brow furrowed in irritation, before finally letting out another sigh. “No, I hired you because you showed what a good worker can be. Which I’m starting to believe was just a mistake, and I should let you be an intern forever.”

Gahyeon chuckled, her demeanor unbothered. “But you like having me around. We both know you didn’t hire me just for my work skills…”

She wasn’t exactly wrong. When Gahyeon wasn’t being a thorn in your side, you enjoyed her company, and if you had to admit, it was nice to have a pretty face show up to your office first thing in the morning—when she actually showed up.

“Gahyeon, please get off me. Once I put a dent in this work then I’ll take a break. I promise.” But as expected, she didn’t budge, stubborn as ever, and kept playing with your tie.

“But I think you should take a break now��”

“Gahyeon—”

“I get it, work comes first. But so should my boss,” she smirked, taking advantage of your compromised position. You had no response.

“So you wouldn’t want me to give you a nice, sloppy blowjob under your desk? I shouldn’t get on my knees for you and wrap these pretty little lips around your thick, delicious cock?”

You swallowed hard. Gahyeon knew how to make you crumble, no matter how tough you tried to hide your weaknesses. She knew better than anyone what exact words to say and when to provoke you. If only she put as much effort into seducing you as she did in putting off her obligations.

But your lack of any protest was the closest thing to an answer as she loosened up your tie and positioned herself into a proper mount on your lap. “I wanna make you cum, boss.”

Her words sent an electrifying tingle up your spine. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth, so I can swallow it all. So you can watch me swallow your huge load. Come on, boss. I’m dying to suck your dick.”

When your assistant practically begged, it was hard not to cave in. Your heavy workload could wait, because you couldn’t avoid those tempting eyes any longer. And if anything—it would be the best way to silence that mouth.

“Then get on your fucking knees, slut.”

Gahyeon’s devilish lips couldn’t smile any wider. Quick to comply after you uttered her favorite word, a word she no longer pretended to protest against, she used those same lips to deliver a greedy, deliberate kiss, before wiping her lipstick from your mouth.

“Since when do you care about lipstick marks?”

“I don’t, boss. I’d just rather see my lipstick at the end of your cock.”

There it was again, that annoying sly grin as Gahyeon removed herself from your lap, and lowered to her knees. She then maneuvered into the space underneath your desk, nestled perfectly between your legs.

“Anything for you, boss.” Not one to hesitate, Gahyeon unzipped your pants with an intense desire to please you, eager for what waited underneath when she felt up your crotch. Faster than your next heartbeat, she yanked your slacks down, letting them drop to the floor in a heap, and your boxers fell to your ankles moments after.

Gahyeon might have been a lot of things: unmotivated, a complainer, habitually late, but if there was one thing she was an expert at, that would be taking your mind off work. So you watched while she grabbed your cock, and slapped it on her pretty face, all while maintaining that seductive smile that screamed I’ll do anything.

But it had all fallen into place far too easily. “Are you sure you deserve to suck my cock?”

Refraining from saying much more, Gahyeon frowned and answered with deft strokes as she pumped your cock with a tight grip.

“I’ll convince you, boss.”

Her eyes sparkled with determination, widening even more when she admired your shaft, before she teased it with her wet tongue and licked along your length.

If you had to admit one weakness, it would be Gahyeon’s lips; so pouty and full, kissably soft and always ready to go down on you at a moment’s notice. When they made contact on your swollen cockhead and planted several wet kisses, there would be no holding back, you had fully given into temptation.

But there would be no guilt about letting your assistant suck you off in your office for the umpteenth time, because as Gahyeon suggested—it was just part of the job.

So without interruption, you let Gahyeon do what she did best. She continued kissing your cockhead and created a path of tender kisses all the way down to your base that warmed your shaft with her hot breath as she did so. “You’re so hard, boss…”

Only Gahyeon could be blamed for that.

“Need to get this down my throat. I’m so hungry, I haven’t had breakfast yet,” Gahyeon murmured as she licked her lips, and gave your stiff cock a proper tongue bath, followed by bouts of kissing your cock that gave as much attention as she could. Ultimately, it was the look in her eyes that turned you on more so than the sloppy licks she gave your cock, but her unwavering eye contact and growing desperation while on her knees more than helped persuade you.

“Then stop teasing me, Gahyeon,” you said, shooting her a look that demanded she comply. Surprisingly, she did just that—after one more long lick up your length, her sexy lips parted, and swallowed up the engorged head of your cock. From that moment, you melted into your office chair when Gahyeon sucked your tip, and her head bobbed in a hypnotic rhythm while her delicate hands caressed your bare thighs.

“There you fucking go,,” you muttered, almost too loud for comfort as any tension in your body began to fade. Gahyeon wrapped those pretty lips around your cock and created a tight suction that instantly made you groan as she worked her magic. Using those perfect plump lips to suck on your swollen head, she only let go of your cock to flick against your leaking slit, then nudged down further to the base to take more of you in her warm mouth.

“Mmm, you’re so delicious, boss. I’ve been waiting for this all morning,” she moaned, as she slapped your cock against her wet tongue. You knew her intentions went deeper than just your personal wellbeing, but you never should have fought back against this—and if anything, Gahyeon’s mouth on your cock should be part of your morning routine.

That pretty mouth felt better the deeper it went, using all the tricks she had stored—spitting on your dick, hollowing her cheeks, and fondling your balls until your entire length ended up buried down her throat.

“Fuck, Gahyeon—just like that.” With a deep groan, your gaze fixated on Gahyeon’s bobbing head, as you savored the intense wetness of her mouth, the softness of her lips, and the wonderful warmth of her throat. The messier she got, the more tension from your body dissipated, and soon you felt lighter than a cloud, as both the stiffness in your neck and shoulders subsided.

Gahyeon, like she had candy in her mouth, sucked on each of your balls while she furiously stroked your cock. From there, her sloppy mouth swapped between your tender sack and your stiffened cock, giving equal attention until she doused each part of you with as much warm saliva as she could.

In that instant, when your throbbing length filled her throat, her greedy lips remained balls deep, with her cute nose flush against your stomach. Lost in her piercing gaze, Gahyeon lips stayed latched onto your shaft, as she took hungry, fulfilling strokes, and had never looked so needy.

But you, on the other hand, needed more than just a wet mouth to satisfy your craving. “Open that shirt up, slut. Need to see those pretty tits.”

Bobbing her head more frantically, Gahyeon kept her focus on swallowing your cock down her throat, but also loosened her tie up, and began unbuttoning her shirt. Multitasking was only a skill used when she needed it. Her nimble fingers practically ripped open her top, exposing her full, clothed breasts in the black bra underneath, with her skull tie nestled perfectly in between deep cleavage that stared back at you.

“Fuck, there’s nothing more I love than sucking your cock,” Gahyeon said, filling up her throat with every long stroke, using her talented mouth with more fervor than she ever did before.

“Doesn’t that feel good? I love hearing you moan, boss. My pretty lips must feel so good on your huge, throbbing cock, right?”

Another set of painfully obvious questions that you shouldn’t have bothered to answer. “Yeah, Gahyeon. You’re being such a good little cockslut. Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking—

It was hard to finish your sentence when you had your assistant slobbering on your dick, lips hard at work, desperate to prove her worth.

"Then why aren’t you fucking my throat?" Gahyeon asked, hands gripping your thighs to further add encouragement. You had to ask yourself the same question—but there was no need for an answer, especially after you immediately grabbed both sides of her head, with your fingers tangled up in her pretty locks.

Fortunately for Gahyeon, it wasn't in your nature to be gentle with her, and she would never want you to be. After staring at her mesmerizing eyes, you shoved her head down your length, thrusting into her mouth until you bottomed out her throat in one fluid stroke, forcing out a gag on the first try.

Holding her head down, you pumped vigorously into that tight mouth, and Gahyeon gagged once more as the bottom of your length became saturated with lipstick and saliva. Now that the last bits of control were taken away, Gahyeon let out sultry sounds of being unable to manage your length, regardless how many times she had been in this exact position.

“Sorry, boss. You’re just so big for my slutty little mouth.” Gahyeon got off on this part the most, and nothing made her happier than having her throat stuffed to the hilt, being choked with cock as you shoved it down until she couldn’t even breathe.

More than the thick flesh that gagged her, Gahyeon loved the helplessness that came with being throatfucked, the way her mouth filled with drool, and how it took mere seconds until her once pretty face became an absolute mess with just a handful of harsh thrusts. On your end, you loved ruining Gahyeon’s makeup, as well as making her luscious lips glisten with saliva, because when she walked out of your office with mascara and tears dripping down her cheeks—you knew she had no way to hide the events that had just transpired.

Yet, for all the many times you gave Gahyeon the rough throatfucking she so desperately begged for, she should have grown accustomed to the harsh way you used her pretty mouth. But you couldn’t say you didn’t love to see her struggle, audibly gag, and drool when your length continuously shoved down her throat.

After all, whenever Gahyeon was on her knees, she had little trouble submitting to you. In fact, she preferred this, to be treated like nothing but your own personal toy, to use whenever at your own convenience. Without any complaints, Gahyeon continued gagging on your cock, as you continued thrusting your hips into her face, urged by the look on her face.

“Such a good fucking slut, taking me so well. My pretty little assistant really likes being facefucked, don’t you? And gagging on your boss’s dick?” With her cock-filled throat gurgling on your shaft, slurping and leaking saliva down the corners of her lips as she tried to choke it down, Gahyeon couldn’t exactly give a response. But you could see it in those needy, lust-filled eyes, how much she took pleasure in her throat being fucked without mercy, without consideration for how well she could breathe.

Only once did you grant Gahyeon a brief respite that left her gasping for air. Unconcerned for anything but your taste, she latched her wet lips onto your balls, and suckled them with a greedy hunger you hadn’t seen before, tasting her own spilled saliva. “I really love choking on your dick, boss. You make me so wet when you force my head down, when you make my eyes water, when I can feel every last inch of this beautiful dick throbbing down my throat…”

From then, it only got rougher, even messier when Gahyeon sputtered out saliva against your shaft, gagging on your length over and over as she struggled to breathe properly. Regardless of how rough things got, she would always choose the hard flesh jammed down her throat over oxygen, and nothing could deter the lewd expressions she made, nor could it deter your vigorous skullfucking.

More and more you craved your addiction—the sounds of Gahyeon struggling, the tears in her pleading eyes, the streaks of mascara that beautifully ran down her face, and the harsh tugs of her hair you made when you hit the back of her throat. Equally, Gahyeon craved the way her lips were forced down at the bottom of your base, her mouth wide open and her jaw stretched out. Most of all, you were addicted to the intense feeling of ramming your cock down Gahyeon’s throat, because there wasn’t anything better than the messy sounds from a good throatfuck.

Gahyeon fulfilled her role well, even if she did little but stay on her knees and offer up her wet throat, dedicated to your pleasure.

"Fuck, this throat feels so damn good,” you groaned, as the endless echoing noises her messy little mouth made compelled you to be even rougher, causing the final traces of self-control collapsed. “You sound so good choking on this dick. My little slut likes being your boss’s personal fucktoy, don’t you?”

The way that Gahyeon looked up drove you wild as she answered with her eyes, not only just enduring, but savoring the merciless treatment of her throat, yet getting off more by your degrading words than any actions.

Just as you felt yourself going insane with bliss and drew closer and closer to that sweet nirvana—there came a knock at a door that interrupted your fun.

Shit.

Mild panic kicked in—you couldn’t think straight. You wouldn't have any cause for concern if Yoohyeon or Bora came through that door, they’d even take a seat to enjoy the show and spur you on. But you had to be ready for anyone else who wouldn’t turn a blind eye, regardless if the entire office floor knew you railed your assistant more often than a fresh cup of coffee brewed.

After you involuntarily released the tight grip you held on either side of Gahyeon’s head, you tried to collect yourself and ran through dozens of scenarios in your head in preparation for whatever possibility would materialize.

“Don’t fucking move, Gahyeon. Don’t make a fucking sound, just keep my cock warm in your throat, okay?”

Moving back beneath your desk as a quick sign of acknowledgment, Gahyeon tried her best to stay out of sight, and for the time being, kept your cock in her mouth obediently.

While your heart pounded as you wondered who could possibly be behind your office door, you made your best effort to tidy up your desk, wanting at least something to look presentable.

“Come in!” you said, after some serious hesitation, and hoped that you wouldn’t be caught with your pants down—quite literally. Moments later, the door to your office opened, and it came as no surprise who stood behind it, the lesser of two evils—Kim Minji.

“Good morning, boss.” Somehow, you found the courage to look straight ahead while resisting the impulse to look underneath your desk.

“Morning!” Minji replied back, sporting a bright smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to add to your pile. I come with good news only. Here are our monthly earnings reports. We’re up ten percent from last month, so your bonus at the end of the month will reflect that. Good work.”

You held your breath when Minji dropped a folder on your desk, and pretended everything was as normal as could be, like you weren’t naked from the waist down with your cock being warmed by Gahyeon’s pretty lips.

“Thank you, boss. Oh here, I have some reports that you need to look over and sign them.”

“Of course, I’ll have them back to you by the end of the day.” For all the stress that Minji brought, her smile alone came with a sense of relief, and she was much preferable to deal with than her scary counterpart, Siyeon.

“Wait, where is Gahyeon? I swear I saw her earlier, did she not show up today?” Minji asked, folding her arms against her chest.

If only Minji knew your assistant was nestled under your desk. Which of course meant Gahyeon couldn’t help herself. As if on cue, her tongue began to play with the underside of your shaft, and you gritted your teeth to control yourself, but you palmed the back of Gahyeon's head and dug your nails into her skull to prevent anything else.

“Oh, she’s here. She’s…around. I sent her on a couple errands, so she should be back soon.”

“Ah, okay. Well, whenever she comes back, send her my regards for a job well done. She’s an official part of the team now, so she shares the credit.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Minji nodded, turned around to head back to her office, then shut the door behind her. Once she had departed, you took a deep breath, and relaxed back in your chair, with your heart still racing.

“Jesus, Gahyeon. What did I say?” You glared at her underneath your desk, but she didn’t utter a single word. No sooner had you taken your next breath before she snatched your cock back inside her mouth and went back to work.

“Think you can finish me off by yourself? You want me to blow my load down your tummy?"

Gahyeon had never smiled so wide, nor had as much enthusiasm when she bobbed her head and played with your balls, trying to speed up your orgasm. “Yes, boss! Please let me swallow your cum, I’ll suck every drop out of you.”

Despite how much she enjoyed having her throat used, Gahyeon also took pride in her oral expertise. So, in the blink of an eye, her movements grew frantic, eager to wring out your load as promised, with every stroke of her mouth bringing you even further to ecstasy.

More than ready to blow your load, you couldn’t ignore the tightness in your core when Gahyeon’s warm, sloppy mouth devoured your cock up, deepthroating from tip to base, with a trail of saliva covering every inch as she slurped the life out of you.

“Don’t fucking stop, Gahyeon. I’m so close, keep sucking that dick until you make me explode,” you demanded, and she obliged as she sucked with a fervor never shown before, impatiently waiting for you to shoot down her throat.

Nearly there, your breathing grew heavy, faster with each stroke, and you couldn’t wait to release that deep reservoir of pent up lust Gahyeon had caused. As each pass drove you closer and closer to release, you couldn't stop staring at how her lips swallowed you whole while her eyes kept their focus on you, anticipating your climax.

Gahyeon didn’t hold back anything, finishing you off with one more long stroke from base to tip, as you gripped the back of her head tightly with both hands, pressed her face down your crotch, and let out a loud groan when you finally unloaded in her mouth. Like a tidal wave, your orgasm hit, her eyes widening more than they ever had when your thick cum quickly overflowed from the messy corners of her lips, the volume of your orgasm simply too much to handle.

You firmly held her head down, unwilling to let go, all while your dick continued to pulsate inside Gahyeon’s throat, sending more hot semen down, and you spilled everything you had with loud grunts and lust-filled groans. Exhausted and drained of every drop, every ounce of energy, you gasped and panted while releasing the harsh grip you held, feeling the weight of the world lifted. With a messy face and a satisfied smile, Gahyeon pulled away until your cock released from her lips, and opened her mouth wide to let you see the creamy pool of cum gathered up before she swallowed the sticky mess that coated her throat.

After licking her lips stained with saliva, Gahyeon cleaned up the remnants of arousal that she failed to contain, using her tongue to clean up your crotch so she could fill her stomach more. Only then did she place one more deep kiss on your cock that had yet to stop twitching, and slid her tongue into your sensitive slit, desperate to try to find a drop she hadn’t yet tasted.

“Your cum tastes so good, but I need more, boss, much more. Your delicious cum makes a very good breakfast.”

“Greedy little cumslut.” Gahyeon giggled in admission as she licked clean the head of your cock. Several deep breaths later, you leaned back in your chair and just stared at her, who kept some part of her body touching yours, lips kissing your inner thighs, delicate hands longing to keep your body warm.

You were far from done with her, but the workplace would no longer cut it, you needed a more open playground.

“There’s much more for you later, but you’ll have to earn it,” you said, earning a pout from Gahyeon’s thoroughly used lips, because being told to work for something—even your dick, made her disappointed. Taking some pause, she lifted herself up, stood upright, and took a seat back on your desk, eyes looking around at the stacks and mountains of paperwork that seemed impossible to know where to begin.

“Now that I’ve relieved some of that stress, what else can I help with, boss?” she asked, not even bothering to button up her shirt.

“Nothing, Gahyeon.”

“Nothing?” she repeated, tilting her head to one side. “But I thought you had a lot of work to finish…”

“Yeah, I do. Piles of it, as you can see. But since you got me so worked up, it’ll have to wait,” you said, shamelessly focusing on her uncovered cleavage that still had glistening saliva staining her chest.

“I’m going to take the rest of the day off, and so are you, just so I can rail you into next week—but not here. Because we both know you’ll be far too loud, so we’re going back to my place so I can fuck your brains out far away from this office, where nobody will be around to hear how loud you’ll scream for me.”

Even in her disheveled state, Gahyeon couldn’t have been more overjoyed. She’d take any excuse to leave the office. But convincing your superiors as to why you were leaving work with your assistant before noon would be the tricky part, though just this once, you could count on Gahyeon, because you knew she had a thousand different ways to get out of work. You'd leave that part all up to her.

✦ ✦

You couldn’t have driven fast enough to your place. Luckily, most traffic lights were in your favor, and those that weren’t, well—you were fortunate enough to not see red and blue in your rear view mirror. Not even three songs played through your playlist before you arrived, then it became a race to enter your house, and the door couldn’t open fast enough.

The thought of staying in a hotel did cross your mind, with its spacious beds that you wouldn’t be responsible for changing sheets, scalding hot showers, and beautiful balconies that were perfect for ramming your pretty assistant up against the cold glass while admiring the view. If you wanted, you could have made everything come full circle and took Gahyeon to the same hotel you took Bora to that very first night that snowballed your office relationships. For sure, that really would have made Gahyeon jealous and brought out an even bigger brat in her, but also most likely you’d get kicked out for noise complaints within five minutes.

Your place would suffice. After all, it was already well equipped with everything you needed, without worries of noise or any other concerns, although you planned on fucking Gahyeon hard enough that the entire neighborhood could hear her moans and screams.

When the door closed behind Gahyeon, there would be no more holding back, the green light to take her against any surface to do whatever you pleased with her. But she didn’t even bother to properly store her shoes when she slipped them off, yet neither did you, as you tossed your keys, wallet, and all your inhibitions.

“Bedroom? Living room?” she asked, but wouldn’t make it past the foyer before you pinned her against the front door with a hand wrapped around her throat. Gahyeon knew things wouldn’t be easy the moment she stepped foot in your place, but it didn’t stop her from feeling just a trace of nervousness when you tightened your grip, adding to her arousal.

She couldn’t hide her anticipation, nor her little lip quivers under your control, but at the same time—this was what she wanted, what she worked hard to provoke you, willing to fold and let you have your way with her.

“Here? You’re gonna fuck me hard against this door, daddy?” she asked, as though it were both a question and a suggestion, but it only made you clutch her throat harder when you pushed her more against the wood of the front door.

“Don’t call me that, Gahyeon.”

“But you like it when I call you that. And we’re not at the office…” Gahyeon was right on all counts, but after her little morning shenanigans, she would have to earn her daddy privileges back.

“You’re right. We’re not at the office anymore, but that doesn’t mean you still deserve to use that word. Because now you’re going to call me sir while I fuck you senseless until your legs give out.”

Releasing the grip on her throat, Gahyeon caught her breath, then gave a slight nod with a blatantly mocking salute. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s much better. Now arms up.”

Gahyeon stalled as she rolled her eyes and curled her lips into an even more blatant smirk. “But what if I don’t wanna?”

That was what you expected, of course. Now, in the comfort of your own space, the best part of bringing Gahyeon home was the freedom to do what you wanted with her. But it came at a cost, for her to fall into her old bratty ways, with her own freedom to challenge every order you gave with less repercussions than at the office..

“Arms up, slut,” you repeated, but predictable as always, Gahyeon didn’t move a muscle, nor did she make any attempts to listen. Fine then, you would play her little game—for now. While you stared at the whites of those gorgeous eyes, waiting to see who would blink first, you seized her cold, delicate wrists, and pinned them above her head with the harshest grip you could manage.

She pretended to fight back, squirming under your touch, and pretended like she couldn’t be controlled. But when you stared daggers into her big, round eyes, she folded like a deck of cards, thanks to your intimidating gaze.

“Keep those arms raised, Gahyeon. Don’t drop them until I say so.”

“Y-yes, sir,” she said after nodding in agreement, refusing to give up her faux defiance while you caressed and patted her cheek.

“Good girl.”

As her first test of obedience, you released the firm grip on her wrists that had developed bruises already, and observed while she kept her arms held high above her head. Searching for any signs of resistance, you couldn’t find any when you loosened up Gahyeon’s tie and slid it off her, almost tempted to use it to bind her hands together. Instead, you flung it aside and undid her top, allowing yourself access to her ample breasts once more.

Her chest didn’t stay covered for long, and after a long stare between her deep cleavage, you tugged her lacy bra down enough to release her wonderful full breasts, cupping them the moment they earned freedom.

Making sure Gahyeon still held her arms up, you squeezed her bare breasts, groping as much flesh could fill your hands. You teased her taut nipples, flicking your fingers against them as they stiffened up, which made a helpless Gahyeon moan against your touch.

“Look at these gorgeous fucking tits. They look so swollen and sensitive,” you said while fondling them to your heart's content, enjoying their softness, their pleasant weight, and how effortlessly they bounced as you toyed with them. Her tits were as immaculate as they were sensitive, softer as you remembered, perfectly shaped, and you could spend hours kneading them, playing with them, all while her eyes begging for your continued touch.

The more you squeezed Gahyeon’s large breasts, the needier her moans became, as your hands got lost in that milky flesh. She could feel her shoulders ache the longer things went, but knew better than to dare complain. That would be the least of her worries soon enough.

You tugged at her pretty nipples, pinched them, then flicked them more just to break the silence with her whines—but it would be the last modicum of pure pleasure you would grant Gahyeon. Without warning, you slapped one of her heavy breasts, and watched her flinch in surprise. You then slapped her other breast even harder, perfectly landing on her stiffened nipple that you pinched right after, making her yelp out while causing satisfying ripples of her sensitive flesh.

Unable to hide her reactions, Gahyeon cried out in both pain and pleasure while you continued smacking her pale tits, the harsh sound an addictive level of arousal for her—for you, another release of frustration, more encouragement to hear those cute whines, and most of all, more punishment.

Back and forth you went between her beautiful tits, and smacked one after another, right, then the left, then the opposite direction, even slapping them both at once, like a metronome of painful pleasure leaving an arousing soreness that made Gahyeon’s thighs clench.

"I like you much better when you're an obedient little whore,” you said, proud to have wiped that smirk from Gahyeon’s pretty face, and kept up your assault on her supple, tender breasts that began to turn a shade of red that contrasted with her creamy skin, turning even more sensitive than from the start. She fought hard not to moan, unsuccessful when you carried on the ruthless nature, each pass across her reddened chest a heavy reminder that you were the one with all the power.

“Fucking brat. You like these huge fucking tits being slapped?” Before she responded, you roughly kneaded her breasts, earning even louder whimpers when you played with her nipples, driving her crazy with stimulation.

“Y-yes, sir, I love it, I love my tits being slapped! Please, sir, please—make it hurt,” Gahyeon pleaded, and for once, you’d oblige her by smacking her tits with much more force than previously, only to watch them bounce and bounce, as if counting the times she disobeyed you. You knew she could take more, that the painful sting of her tits being slapped would only ruin her panties more. Which was exactly why following a few more smacks and tugs at her swollen nipples, you gave each sensitive, reddened breast one final slap before you pulled away.

Unsurprisingly, Gahyeon couldn’t help but be greedy and beg for just a little more. “Please, sir! Please keep slapping my tits, please, please…”

But you ignored her pleas entirely and took a step back, admiring the way Gahyeon stayed frozen in this helpless state. “No, Gahyeon. A greedy little slut like you doesn’t deserve anything.”

Next came the customary pouts, needy whines, and desperate pleas that you disregarded while guiding her away from the doorway, removing that pesky shirt and bra to leave her fully topless. Finally able to rest her tired arms, the first thing Gahyeon did was make her way over to you, squeezed a handful of your crotch, and let her eyes wander while a delightful smile overtook her sinful lips.

“Please, sir…” Normally, you’d punish an unpermitted action like that, but well—you figured Gahyeon had enough punishment for now. Plus, you knew that would be exactly what she wanted. So instead, you simply grabbed Gahyeon by the waist, and held her tight against the nearest wall as you dove into her neck.

“Ah, please!” Letting out little gasps while you licked, nibbled, and then sucked on her delicate neck, eager to leave a mark.

As you kept sucking a bruise into her neck, Gahyeon returned to your crotch, and rubbed you through your slacks until you hardened under her touch. You made quick work of her skirt and removed it from her tiny little waist, then watched the way it dropped down to her ankles, leaving her in just skimpy panties and torn stockings. Those tattered, unprofessional stockings which gave you an idea when you dropped to one knee.

You ran a finger over her thigh, scratching against the material to test its strength, and easily tore through the fragile fabric. Confirming your suspicions, you found the perfect spot and tugged at the sheer fabric right between the center until they ripped open.

Gahyeon looked down in shock, but you couldn’t even be bothered to meet her gaze. “Hey! I liked those stockings!”

You didn’t—they were tacky, cheap-looking, and most of all, inappropriate for the office. No better excuse than getting rid of them by ripping them off Gahyeon. “You earn a better paycheck now, you can buy another pair. One that’s more professional, like you promised. Besides, they were ripped already.”

“But they’re supposed to be—”

Ignoring her was, as always, the best course of action while you removed her now useless stockings and admired her bare, luscious legs in all their splendor. When you rose to your feet and pressed two fingers against her clothed cunt, Gahyeon no longer had any complaints to spare.

“Ah! Will you—will you fuck me now, sir?”

Not a damn thing would stop you from that. “Yes, Gahyeon. I’m going to use your tight body, every slutty little hole, until I’m satisfied, and I’ll make sure I ruin you.”

With your intentions laid out, Gahyeon couldn’t look more pleased, and there was no better motivation than your petite assistant waiting for you to ravage her body. Not wasting a second, Gahyeon unbuttoned your pants as you took off your shirt, adding both items to the discarded pile of clothes underneath. For a brief moment, you admired each other’s half-naked bodies, until you grabbed her waist to pull her close enough so that she could feel your bulge against her toned stomach.

“I can feel how hard you are. I did this to you, didn’t I sir?” Gahyeon asked, as she reached down to massage your bulge, tracing every inch while your throbbing erection strained against the fabric.

“You’re right, Gahyeon. Your slutty little body caused this. And you know what I plan on doing about it right?”

“This cock is going inside me, isn’t it, sir? Until I can’t walk?”

“Until you can’t walk.”

Without saying anything more, Gahyeon began her ascent up the stairs that led to the bedroom, but only made it a few steps, before you grabbed her voluptuous hips and bent her over the stairwell railing. Little could compare from such a vantage point with your curvy assistant in your favorite position, yet you wasted no time peeling off her skimpy little thong to expose her plump buttcheeks and the prettiest set of pink pussy lips.

“Impatient, sir?” she asked, and instinctively spread her legs, granting easier access to whichever part of her body you would decide to partake in first. Making that decision would be more difficult than anything you had done at work, for sure.

“That’s your fault, Gahyeon. Now you’re going to share some of the responsibility,” you replied, pondering over your choices carefully. Her tight, spankable ass begged for attention, and that little asshole would be a wonderful place to start, but the wet flesh of her gorgeous cunt couldn’t be ignored, beckoning as it dripped with arousal. Either would provide an ideal home for your aching shaft.

Until a decision could be made, you removed your boxers, and gave yourself some relief, stroking several times as your attention grew divided between Gahyeon’s juicy ass and the slick pair of lips that waited for you.

“Where do you want this cock, slut?" you asked, unable to make a decision on your own and rested your shaft between her shapely cheeks. Surrounded by supple flesh that sandwiched your thick erection, you slid in between and throbbed while you awaited her answer.

“Wherever you want, sir,” Gahyeon responded, an honest, yet unhelpful response that did little to steer your answer in the right direction. “It really doesn’t matter, as long as you pound me like a whore and empty these big juicy balls inside me.”

Back at square one, it would be up to you to choose your own fate. Inevitably, you’d use both that tight sculpted ass and her drenched, succulent pussy, but without any lube in arm’s reach, the choice became obvious which would be the winner of your seed. You would save the best for last.

“Fine, Gahyeon. Let’s start with this pretty little cunt.”

With your cock poised above Gahyeon’s ass, she couldn’t have been more ready when she arched her back and leaned firmly on the railing, looking back for a moment to entice you with her eyes. As you lined yourself up with her warm opening, your tip nudged her plump pussy lips, and you felt her walls tremble in anticipation. You were all out of patience, so after you grabbed her wide hips and slid inside her with ease, you bottomed her out with your entire length in one fluid motion.

“Oh god,” Gahyeon moaned out in surprise, while her pussy tightened around your shaft the moment she felt your thick shaft slide into her slippery warmth. “So fucking big.”

There was no pause, no hesitation when you plunged your hard cock inside the intense warmth of Gahyeon’s tight little pussy. The soft flesh wrapped around you, already dripping wet when it squeezed your length, and your shaft felt so damn good inside that tight hole that your hips picked up speed right away, stretching out her velvety walls. With every thrust you felt her walls quiver, compelled to grip her body tighter, and used her body as an outlet, entirely out of frustration for how goddamn tight she was.

“Goddamn, Gahyeon, you’re so fucking wet,” you hissed, out of breath at the hot flesh that craved your throbbing cock as you pumped into her heat, your entire shaft covered in her slick juices. “So tight, such a tight fucking slut, god—this tight pussy feels too good.”

Already, you were going insane, even by the first set of thrusts, Gahyeon felt so hot around you, her delicious cunt squeezing so harshly, that you couldn't help but give in to lust, freeing the restraints that remained. Almost on autopilot, you pounded into her heat unabated, pistoning your hips that met her supple cheeks, and rippled with every thrust as the smack of flesh on flesh filled the small foyer.

“Oh my god, just like that. Fuck me like that, please sir, fuck me like a toy!” she begged, not that being gentle with her would ever be an option, not when you could stretch her in ways unimaginable.

“Your tight little cunt loves my cock, doesn’t it? Look at you creaming all over me like a needy fucking whore. You like being used, don’t you? You like being fucked this rough by your boss?” you growled, as Gahyeon desperately moaned for more.

Fueled by the intense clench of her cunt that persuaded you to keep the rough pace, she held the railing while you kept railing her, and made every type of satisfied moan imaginable. Those delicious cheeks bounced and bounced when your body clapped against them, and they became a soundtrack of delirious bliss, one that you could listen to forever.

“Sir, yes! Oh my god, you’re so deep in my little pussy, please, please, sir—fuck me harder! Fuck, oh fuck!”

You continued to mercilessly slam into Gahyeon’s wet cunt as she repeatedly added the word sir to the end of her moans, and fought to keep up with the tempo you set as she became louder with each hard set of thrusts.

Beginning to pant heavily, Gahyeon squirmed underneath your body and desperately tried to anchor herself to the stairwell. Her beautiful pale skin glistened with sweat as you kept pounding away into her slippery warm depths, and your movements became more and more erratic, borderline out of control.

And she endured it all so well, so fucking wet you swore you would slip out of her at any moment, but you kept hammering out thrusts, with your end goal to absolutely destroy her cunt. Because with Gahyeon, there was no such thing as being too rough, no holding back, and it was a given to fuck her without a morsel of mercy that undoubtedly, even your neighbors across the street could hear the screams she made while your bodies crashed together.

If it were anything less, Gahyeon would have complained without end.

Leaning closer, with your hands still squeezing her insanely wide hips, you buried your face into the crook of her hot sweaty neck, took a long lick, and bit down harshly, yearning for the rich taste of Gahyeon.

“After I cum in you, that huge ass is next. I’ve been waiting to fill your holes, ever since you were on your knees under my desk. I could have pounded your ass at work, but I wanted to do it in the comfort of my own bed so I wouldn’t have to worry about staining the carpet. It’s not easy to explain to the custodial staff that my assistant can’t keep her fucking legs closed.”

For once, maybe since the first time you met her—Gahyeon became speechless. Her attention narrowed on how you were slamming your hips against her and rearranging her guts. “When you report to work tomorrow, you’re going to have to carry around one of those spare cushions from the maintenance closet from me ravaging your perfect ass.”

Every slew of vulgarity that left your mouth made Gahyeon’s hips buck almost as much as the rough thrusts that battered her sweaty little body. You kept yourself buried in her tight cunt, consumed with desire from the sensations of your hard cock that slid between her drenched lips, pounding into her with thrusts so hard she almost collapsed.

Overpowered by exhaustion, Gahyeon released her grip on the stairwell, and you took advantage by seizing both her arms one at a time, and held them behind her back, linking them with yours. She wasn’t going anywhere as her lips uttered the most needy cries of pleasure when you pulled her upright towards you, the warmth of her cunt intoxicating, sending you into a frenzy of bliss. Gahyeon was completely yours, and you were free to use and dominate her hot body as much as you desired until you had your fill.

Utilizing your remaining strength, you followed down a final path of merciless thrusts while keeping her curves close to you at all times, maintaining the urge to fuck every last little bit of brat out of her.

Her words became a jumbled mess of incoherence, and the more you plunged into that smothering wet heat, the greater the urge became to spill your seed inside Gahyeon, unwilling to fight back against the tightness in your balls that demanded to be drained.

And while Gahyeon didn’t deserve to cum—you were more than content to keep this a one-sided ride of pleasure, but had to ensure that she became more than a ruined, blithering, fucked out mess who couldn’t remember whose assistant she was. You wouldn’t be satisfied until her legs turned to jelly, hell-bent on this maddening pace as her body began to tremble, counting down to the last moments of release that you both chased.

Because there would never be anything better than watching Gahyeon fall apart at the seams.

"Sir, please, I’m so close. Please, n-need, need to—” Gahyeon didn’t even have to vocalize her desires when the walls of her soaked cunt tightened to a new level, but you always enjoyed that begging, and wouldn’t hesitate to finish what you had started. So after letting go of her arms, she collapsed to the stairs, clinging onto the wooden steps with your cock still pounding away.

“Hurry up and cum then,” you said, indulging your desires to reclaim her delicious hips once more, clutching them tightly.

Gahyeon couldn’t exactly do much else under your control, so close to obtaining what she craved since you shoved your cock inside her. She seemed almost reluctant, but the tighter you held her and the quicker you pumped, the more the walls of her cunt pulsated violently—until she shattered like glass. The pressure boiled up inside far too much, making her writhe uncontrollably, juices pouring down your dick that painted the bottom stairs.

“Shit, oh fuck, oh fuck—” Gahyeon gasped out when she hit her peak, and let out a torrential outpour of shrieks, her walls continuously suffocating your cock. The only thing better would be seeing Gahyeon’s tits bouncing wildly in the mirror, as well as the look of pure bliss etched on her gorgeous face when she came.

Never had her pussy felt so wet or so tight, those harsh clenches like she was prematurely attempting to extract the cum from your aching balls, desperate to be filled with your seed to the brim.

“You must be close too, sir. Cum inside me, please, please cum inside me, fill me, sir…”

“Don’t you fucking worry, Gahyeon. Your slutty little pussy feels way too good for me not to empty my load into you. That’s what you wanted from the beginning, right? Your boss pumping all this hot cum into your warm little cunt?”

“Yes, yes! Please, sir—fill your little brat, fill me up and use me like a cumdump. Need to feel your big throbbing cock emptying into me, please.”

Savoring the way that tight little hole trembled for your load would be the last thing you did before burying your length inside one last time, and unloaded deep into Gahyeon. All those hours of pent up annoyance disappeared when you spilled your hot seed into her insides. Her wet, hungry pussy clenched for more, milking out spurt after spurt, groan after groan, as your cock twitched in violent pulsations, and filled her up to the brim, overflowing with every drop.

You chased that last bit of bliss, pumping with as many strokes as your body had left, and fucked your hot semen into Gahyeon deep, deep as it would go—all the way into her womb.

When that last spurt finally left your balls, you slumped against her, panting heavily, but with no desire to unsheathe from her warmth. Especially not when Gahyeon continued to quiver in ecstasy, catching her breath while you both recovered.

“Th-thank you, sir,” Gahyeon whispered, her voice weak and trembling, just like her legs underneath her that became just as useless as any words. Your breathing only became deeper the longer you stayed inside Gahyeon, and eventually you pulled out from her swollen lips, watching a slow drip of thick, pearlescent cum that had just been swallowed up leak down her glistening thighs, meeting the rest of her arousal on the steps.

“Gahyeon, fuck—”

“D-don’t worry, sir,” she answered, almost reading your mind while your fresh cum continued to trickle down her battered cunt. “Never been better…”

After a tilt of her head sideways, you kissed her lips while still pressing yourself against her body, feeling her breath in your mouth to validate her condition for yourself. “That’s my good assistant.”

Even though her legs no longer felt like her legs, and her breathing remained unsteady, you helped Gahyeon up to her feet, and moved her so her back rested against the railing.

“So, boss…”

Her chest still hypnotically heaved, and she held onto each side of the railing for support. “H-how come you never fuck me this hard in the office?”

“Because if I fucked you this hard, we’d both get fired. We’ve gotten caught enough times as is.”

“Yeah, well—” she paused, and avoided the subject, grabbing you by the arm with a weak grip. “You promised you’d fuck me in the ass, boss. Now, come on, I can still walk. Barely.”

Whenever Gahyeon looked up at you like that, flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, and a magic smile, now you were the one powerless. If she didn’t need a breather, then neither did you. So, leading the way, Gahyeon sluggishly climbed up the stairs to the bedroom, swaying her hips, with her round ass such a beautiful target that you couldn’t help but smack.

✦ ✦

After the pounding she took, Gahyeon didn’t exactly run up the bedroom stairs. However, her leisurely pace meant you could admire every aspect of her delicious body, and watch the way your cum still dripped down her thighs with every step.

Her appetite for dick hadn’t been tamed, and if there was anything better than Gahyeon on her knees—it was Gahyeon lying on your bed naked. Running fingers through her hair, her head bobbed with familiarity between your spread legs, her bare feet dangling in the air, with a mouth full of cock.

But while you loved the proper oral session Gahyeon gave as you relaxed into your pillows, and her hot mouth swallowing your length whole, that wasn’t her purpose here. That belonged to something waiting on your nightstand.

You raised Gahyeon’s head off your cock with a simple motion, which caused her lips to pout, but instead of complaining, she crawled over your lap and grabbed something from said nightstand.

“This must be for me,” Gahyeon said, attempting to act coy and innocent as she shook up a bottle of lube, its contents already half-empty. She flicked the bottle open with a pop, and turned her back towards you, positioning herself on the edge of your lap. Gahyeon gave you a worthy show when she lubed herself up, inserting one digit, then another, fingering her ass as she spread the cold liquid around her tightest hole, letting out cute little moans the deeper she went.

“Can’t wait to feel your cock instead of my fingers,” she said, turning to face you, and drizzled lube down your shaft, eyes beaming with anticipation. “Can’t wait to feel all of it filling me up.”

For good measure, she poured some down your balls, just to see the way they glistened when she rubbed it in, but kept going, her oiled up hands massaging your stiff cock.

“Hope you’re ready for that little asshole to be stretched, Gahyeon.”

“I am. I can’t wait anymore, sir, please,” she pleaded, guiding your cock, and groaned when she sandwiched your girth between her asscheeks. Letting her impatience linger, you remained silent while Gahyeon’s massive ass rubbed your cock, but grabbed the bottle of lube from her, and coated her pale cheeks until her entire backside became oiled up.

“See? Doesn’t that feel good? It’ll feel so much better when it’s inside me…”

You couldn’t agree more, but that only meant Gahyeon would wait longer, because you needed one more moment to savor how the oiled flesh of her plump ass squeezed your cock, one more moment to admire that magnificent ass. Grabbing a handful, you smacked it hard, an imaginary green light appearing in her eyes.

“Yeah? You’re going to ream my ass finally?” Gahyeon asked with a breath of relief.

“Yes, Gahyeon. There’s no way I’m not going to shove my cock up this perfect ass.”

Those words made her grin from ear to ear, earning what she wished for, a reward for patience. "I’ve needed my little hole stretched so wide, sir, please—”

“You don’t have to keep calling me sir,” you said, and her eyes twinkled upon earning her privileges back.

“Please, daddy—”

“Stop begging, Gahyeon. I'm not only going to stretch you out, I plan on destroying your tight ass until you become a pathetic, whimpering mess. And even if you pleaded with me to stop fucking your brains out, I won’t, because remember—you wanted this.”

Gahyeon couldn’t help but curl her distinctive lips into a blush-inducing smile. Despite the fact that you just laid out the blueprints to give her the anal hammering she so richly deserved, you felt no obligation to move a muscle. After all, you shouldn’t be the only one doing all the work, should you?

“If you want this dick so bad, then come bounce that fat ass on it.”

“Yes, daddy!” she replied, somehow still so energetic while she lifted her hips high and grabbed your cock, carefully lining it up against her back opening, that juicy ass eagerly waiting to be filled. When it came to anal, Gahyeon was nothing but enthusiastic, and preferred it almost as much as you did, and who could blame her when she had an ass like that.

So naturally, Gahyeon wasted little time, taking a deep breath before lowering herself down, until your thick cockhead disappeared inside her impossibly tight asshole. That first orgasmic plunge was the very definition of heaven, a slow burn of bliss upon entering her back entrance that always took your breath away.

“Oh god, daddy,” she gasped, placing both hands on your thighs for leverage. Sharing the sentiment, you gritted your teeth when you felt such an overwhelming tightness that surrounded your shaft, and could hardly process it all, eyes focused on the way Gahyeon’s luscious ass rose back up, nearly leaving herself empty before she sank deeper. There was nothing like watching her ass swallow up your cock.

Every little twitch, every shudder that ran through your body urged her to take you deeper, because for your assistant, it wasn’t much trouble to fit more of you inside. At this point, Gahyeon was a seasoned veteran in taking a cock up her ass, relaxing every muscle, while she took more into her hungry lithe body.

“Shit, Gahyeon, that ass is fucking tight,” you said, now your turn to be blatantly obvious as Gahyeon worked more cock inside that warm little hole, with only one goal in mind—every inch balls deep.

That goal wouldn’t take long to accomplish when she arched her back, taking your cock into her small frame like it was nothing, and spread her ass cheeks to accept more of you. “Good girl, you take that cock like such a good girl, stretch that little asshole out.”

With every word of praise, she clenched hard, an extra bonus to that magnificent view in front, Gahyeon’s perfect, round ass taking more of your girth, begging for your whole length.

“Ah fuck, daddy—oh my god, you’re so big. You feel so good, daddy, I need more, fuck, fuck—”

Nothing compared to the tightness of Gahyeon; that divine cunt could squeeze a load out of you in seconds, but her warm, heavenly asshole, almost painfully tight—that’s where the real fun started.

Greedy as could be, Gahyeon bounced her thick ass on your dick like she had something to prove, that vice-like grip already driving you to the point of insanity. Nearly burying your entire length in one motion, she pumped those wide hips like they had a mind of their own, and the pressure on your cock intensified while her tight little hole became stretched to the limit.

“Fuck, I love how good this feels. Need daddy to gape me, open me up more. Please, daddy, fill me more…”

She pleaded with every word, and your throbbing shaft fought against the constricting walls of her asshole, but for either of you, it was never enough—you needed to be as deep inside her as possible. At the tail end of one of her endless bounces, you reached up to grab her oiled ass and pulled her body back as you plunged the full length of your shaft deep inside her asshole in one continuous stroke.

“Oh shit!” Gahyeon cried out, those tight walls grasping your cock with somehow more force after feeling your full length buried inside her. She rolled those magical hips to match your thrusts, that ass eager to take every last inch, and she tried her absolute best to accommodate your size.

“Does my little slut like bouncing that fat ass on my dick?” you asked, returning the reins back to Gahyeon, who took the initiative and slammed her cheeks down on your thick, rigid cock, every bounce devouring you balls deep.

“Yes, daddy! Oh god, it’s so amazing. You know I ride dick better when it’s in my ass.” Gahyeon demonstrated by using your cock to ride with more fervor, that plump ass engulfing your stiff erection as her hips moved in powerful circles, drawing you deeper under her euphoric spell.

All your focus stayed on Gahyeon’s body, how sweat collected on her back, and the hypnotic way her round wet cheeks rippled as she fucked herself on your shaft without interruption. As her ass choked your cock, you did nothing but lay back in the sheets and let her handle everything, the cadence of her careless bounces mirroring the bed that creaked in protest.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, so perfect—god, that tight little asshole feels incredible. Look how well you take me, keep going,” you said, demanding in your tone, and now that Gahyeon had been properly opened up, she had an obligation to take your whole length into her hot little asshole as she rode you like crazy, accelerating her hips, utterly consumed by lust. Even when the bounces of her ass became relentless, it didn’t dampen the unimaginable bliss; if anything, it planted the seeds of desire further.

“My body is yours, daddy. Use it, use me as you like,” Gahyeon said, looking back with her lips curled wider than ever. Words like that made your swelling erection throb like crazy, the pleasure of your shaft buried in her suffocating ass almost too much to handle.

Seizing control of Gahyeon’s tight frame, she lifted her bare feet and placed them on your thighs as you took hold of her hips, not wanting to waste any time as you remained lodged within that perfect plump ass.

“You feel that hard cock throbbing inside you? That’s what’s gonna destroy this amazing ass. I’ll make sure my pretty slut can’t walk for a whole fucking week.”

Gahyeon wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less, nor would she if you granted her any mercy while hammering your dick into her asshole, making every thrust that you delivered count. Firmly in charge of her body, you pounded away at that tight muscular ring, using your cock to gape Gahyeon’s little hole until it no longer struggled to fit your length, but she craved more, much more, and you reciprocated her desires.

“Yes, daddy, yes! Fuck, that cock stretches me so well, use me all you want,” she whimpered, the strength in her voice fading from all the begging. Just like in the office, Gahyeon understood her duties in the bedroom, knowing how to be an outlet for your lust, and how to be a proper fucktoy. There would never be any doubts about how aggressive you would be with her, so after sliding your hands under her sweaty thighs, you pushed her legs up into a V shape, locked your fingers around her neck, then lifted her small frame into the air, giving your all into every unforgiving thrust.

“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, holy shit—” Gahyeon cried out as you fully put her into the full nelson position and hammered her ass relentlessly like she was a fleshlight. As you used her incredible ass in the manner that she loved, taking absolute control, nothing could match the absolute bliss that filled your body, and you were lucky to pound something so perfect.

If only you could see the way her eyes rolled back in her head while you rammed her ass without mercy—but hearing her boisterous cries of pleasure would have to do. In an instant, your hips released all their energy stored up for the last several moments, and you drilled Gahyeon’s asshole with so much vigor that her moans turned into loud, frantic screams—one of your favorite sounds from her lips.

“Oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop, ruin my little asshole, oh fuck!” Gahyeon managed to utter out before her words became little more than a slur of curses, unraveling underneath your unrelenting onslaught as the intense pleasure in your cock turned into an addiction, one that you would fuel by treating her body just like a toy, giving her the anal pounding she so richly deserved.

Despite how forceful your thrusts were, nothing would stop Gahyeon from begging for more, and you could drill her ass indefinitely. But as much as you craved to keep her suspended in that position, the creeping urge for release began to take over, so involuntarily you would oblige it, savoring how helpless Gahyeon remained while you kept her asshole filled to the hilt.

When your shaft finally slipped from her ass, you beamed with pride at how gaped you made her asshole, and Gahyeon fell to her side, able to catch her breath. But that respite wouldn’t last long, since she couldn’t stand not having your cock inside in some way, and slurped on your Gahyeon-flavored tip once more.

“God, you’re an insatiable little slut, aren’t you? You like tasting your ass?”

“Mhmm,” Gahyeon hummed, and planted a big wet kiss on your tip before she shoved your cock back inside her warm mouth, down to the base in one stroke. She indulged her hunger, sucking you off while tasting herself on your cock, her throat aching to drain everything from you.

You weren’t finished with her yet, left empty by every second that went by without the suffocating grip of her ass. “You want me to keep pounding this tight little asshole?”

Gahyeon hesitated for a moment, too involved with slobbering on your cock before withdrawing her pouty lips. “Want you to cum again. Wanna feel you in my ass again, my little hole hasn’t been stretched enough.”

“Such a slut for this dick, aren’t you?” you asked, while Gahyeon nodded in agreement, shifting to the center of your messy bed sheets, her legs spread wide as she rubbed her cunt, unsatisfied with how much time she had spent empty. Her impatience grew, but you did little but watch, indulging yourself in her divine physique, focused on every movement she made while touching herself.

“Come on, daddy. Shove that big cock back inside my ass.”

You rubbed her thighs, and planted gentle kisses on their pillowy softness while spreading more lube inside her, using it as an excuse to tease her further. “Needy fucking brat.”

“And your needy little brat needs another pounding…”

In one movement, you lifted Gahyeon’s creamy legs into the air, and rested her ankles on your shoulders. No doubt you wouldn’t have much left in the reserves, but just to see the frustration on her face, you stalled while you stroked yourself, teasing her warm little hole with your swollen cockhead.

"Daddy, pleeease—please fuck me," she pleaded, with a drone of whines, your cock nudging against the inviting warmth of her ass. But you still hesitated—not for Gahyeon’s sake, but for yours, and needed a moment to prepare—to prepare for that insane tightness again. With one hand lining up your shaft, the other stroked her beautiful legs, until you were ready to fill her back up again.

You waited for one more whiny plea, one more ‘daddy’ while keeping track of the desperation in her eyes, then impaled your entire shaft into that tiny, unyielding hole. Her back arched right off the bed upon re-entry, and you swore the second time felt like an even tighter squeeze, fitting perfectly inside her. “Shit, Gahyeon—”

That tight hole tempted you into an early climax, but you fought back against those urges, and one stroke at a time, pumped into Gahyeon, groaning at that familiar tightness.

“Daddy, why aren’t you pounding me?” Her lips pouted in her usual manner, but you ignored her and focused on setting the pace, allowing only the head of your cock to disappear inside her asshole as she desperately squeezed you.

“Let me feel it all, daddy. Split me open.”

Regardless of the look on her face, you wouldn’t give in that easily. “Be a good girl and rub your clit for me. Nice and slow.”

You didn't take your eyes off Gahyeon as she obeyed, using her fingers to rub slow, lazy circles against her sensitive swollen clit, and bit her lip at the added stimulation. Her cute whimpers guided your hips and urged you to sink deeper inside her, your strokes quickening as you filled more hard flesh inside that tight hole. Every expression her cute face made became a contortion of lust, and you couldn’t keep yourself from bottoming her out once more, returning back to your animalistic desires.

“Daddy, just like this, you’re so deep, need more…”

Holding back would no longer be an option when the urgency in Gahyeon’s eyes mirrored your own, and you didn’t hesitate to keep your length buried inside her ass, not even giving a chance for her to adjust to your size, pumping against the harsh grip around your cock.

Snatching whatever pleasure she could while Gahyeon kept playing with her clit, you rammed her little asshole without any cares or limits, thrusting with your hips in an erratic rhythm, more and more uncontrolled with every stroke.

“Oh god, daddy, that feels so good. Stretch me with that thick cock, pound my asshole, fuck me hard!” The noises from her lips became borderline unintelligible as your thrusts increased tenfold, hard enough to make her big breasts bounce, and made her fingernails dig into the sheets she squirmed underneath. Her constant moans and whimpers spurred you on as you refused to let your cock stay outside longer than necessary, and held her legs together, hugging them tightly as you began to lose all sense of self-control.

“Fuck, this tight asshole makes my cock feel so fucking good, Gahyeon. Gonna pound you so hard, gonna fuck you like a little slut deserves,” you said as your shaft moved in frenzied, harsh strokes, hitting the right angle, not neglecting a single sweet spot.

Not letting up your pace, you let those luscious legs fall from perched on top of your shoulders, then spread them wide as they could go, giving yourself a better view of your cock spearing her asshole.

At this point, you weren’t so much as fucking Gahyeon anymore, but using her body as just a cocksleeve, a toy, a container for your uncontrollable lust. Through all that lust, you were so lost in the tightness of her ass that any words that exited her mouth sounded miles away, but still heard the faint murmur of pleas. You played with handfuls of her delicious bouncy tits, fingertips trailing up to her collarbone, and then you wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezed with just enough pressure.

“Harder, choke me harder, daddy. Choke your little slut.”

If there were any remnants of control left, Gahyeon relinquished it all when you squeezed her neck harder, and those large eyes spoke more than words ever could. Her asshole tightened more than you could fathom, just like your hand around her throat, and you had no qualms about how rough you were fucking Gahyeon, nor the red marks that would be left displayed on her bare flesh for everyone in the office to see in the morning.

Not that your coworkers didn’t already know how rough you pounded Gahyeon in the various rooms and spaces around the workplace—if only everywhere else had as much soundproofing as your office did.

But nothing would deter you from pounding Gahyeon’s wrecked asshole, when the constant uncontained lust in her eyes began to boil over, long past the point of no return. The pressure built up in her body faster than expected as she frantically worked two fingers deep inside her cunt, and without warning—Gahyeon sprayed your abdomen with a sudden influx of liquid, an orgasm so intense, so overwhelming, that it left her body shaking, desperate for more.

“There you fucking go, Gahyeon. Good girl, cum for me one more time, can you do that?”

Gahyeon could only nod.

“Fuck!” she cried out, and did just that without hesitation, letting out another deluge of squirt from her greedy cunt that coated your lower body in her slick arousal. Her head fell back onto the mattress, quivering thighs spread wide, while you prepared to take your own climax.

“Good little slut.”

“D-daddy, I want your cum too—want it so bad,” Gahyeon said, with pleading eyes, and soon enough she would get it, every last little drop. You doubled down on your pace, and plunged your length into her asshole for as long as you could, savoring the last clenches while pumping into her until your climax was too strong to resist.

All you could withstand were a few more thrusts, so after pulling out of her ass, you spilled hot cum all over her tight stomach, and covered her supple tits with the remainder of your milky load as Gahyeon groaned from below with each thick spurt that fell on her bare, sweaty body.

Equally exhausted, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Gahyeon’s perfect body used as your canvas, staring at her glazed breasts that heaved hypnotically, and her cute, cum-covered tummy that became the perfect target for your load. Lusting for more, she stroked your sensitive cock, almost disappointed when you were milked dry, but kept pumping, desperate to extract one more leftover drop.

“Gahyeon—”

“Yes, daddy?”

You couldn’t find the words you wanted to say, but continued to stare over Gahyeon's body, panting hard while you took in every tiny detail, every droplet of sweat on her pretty, pale skin.

“Wanna go again?” Gahyeon asked, and while you didn’t exactly have much gas left in the tank—you couldn't find a good reason to say no.

"Needy brat."

"I'm your needy brat. Come on, daddy. I know you wanna go again. Press my tits against the glass, get them all wet and soapy for you. You’re still so hard—I know you’d love a nice soapy titfuck,” she said, massaging your balls, teasing them with her fingers like she was trying to get them to fill back up.

Just the thought ensured your erection wouldn’t falter, and well, you couldn’t ever refuse an offer like that. With a grin, you hoisted Gahyeon off the mattress to her feet, legs unsteadily underneath her.

She still had your load painted on her body drenched in sweat when she stood upright, but wore it proudly, just like the grin on her features. “I’ll go get the water running.”

Neither of you would spend that much time getting clean, because you knew the moment you stepped inside the hot shower, Gahyeon’s hands would be all over your body, doing way more than soaping you up. But you were used to that.

Nothing could really ever quench Gahyeon’s bottomless libido, anyway.

#dreamcatcher smut #gahyeon smut #kpop smut #male reader #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #dreamcatcher #gahyeon

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softpascalito · 5 months ago

Text

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 4 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 16k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: thank you guys so much for all the love on the last chapter, sending all of you forehead smooches <3

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 4 – The Note

‘I wish you goodness but I can’t be around to see it.’ — Unknown

You can't say if you've slept at all. Everything seems not inherently wrong, but unimportant. Your body keeps functioning on its own accord, no doubt using up all the reserves it can. But it functions surprisingly well, given the circumstances. You’re not throwing up anymore. Still, a trashcan is placed next to the bed. A glass of water and some tissues occupy the nightstand that usually sits empty, Joel only using the one on his side of the bed.

It’s a bittersweet reminder that you don’t belong here. It’s not your bed or your house, Joel is not yours. The things that are yours are undoubtedly being inspected by whoever Maria has tasked with investigating the situation. Kitchen drawers being rummaged through, notebooks for your classes being picked apart. Looking at a room and weighing whether or not it could’ve belonged to someone who wanted to leave.

You wonder whether or not they’ve found the letter yet. Considering where Lane could’ve placed it so that you wouldn’t see. It suddenly strikes you that she must have been gone when you woke up. That while you were tiptoeing around the bathroom and kitchen, trying to make no noise that could wake her, her bed was empty.

You avoid going further down that road. You don’t think you could stand it if she’d already been dead while you drank your coffee and pulled on your winter coat and flipped through books without a care in the world.

Life pretending that it was still as it had been the day before.

Joel got up a while ago, far too early if the darkness outside the windows is anything to go by. You felt the mattress dip and then rise as he disentangled himself from the sheets while you were giving no sign that you were awake and listened to the floorboards creak as he headed through the room and escaped into the hallway.

It takes you a solid ten minutes to convince your body to crawl out from under the warm covers, still radiating the smell you’ve come to associate with Joel, and pad over to the bathroom. You try hard not to look into the mirror. Of course, just like with everything else, you fail.

The face staring back at you carries dark circles, glassy eyes. The corners of your mouth are slightly cracked, no doubt from last night's intense heaving. But what strikes you most is that every part of your face seems rid of any emotion. There is no light in your eyes. They look just as dead as you imagine Lane’s to be.

You stare at your reflection until your eyes begin to burn. You try to remember to blink. To take a breath and then another and another. Nothing seems to work like it should.

Joel is in the kitchen when your feet carry you downstairs a few minutes later. He pretends to be very busy with the dishes, but you know he’s been waiting for you to wake up. He reaches for the checkered dish towel to wipe his hands before turning his full attention to you. He doesn’t look like he has slept much either. His salt-and-pepper hair is a tad messier than usual. It suddenly strikes you how much lighter it has become since you first met him.

“Hey,” he mumbles, standing in front of you a bit sheepishly. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. “Do you want to have breakfast?”

“Did they bring her letter yet?” You both speak at the same time and then fall quiet.

You can see his shoulders sinking a bit as he takes in your words and his tone sounds careful when he shakes his head. “Not yet. I'm sure they will, in a bit.”

His eyes are trained on your expression and you're close enough that you are certain he is seeing you the same way you saw the person in the mirror. Empty, lifeless. Dead.

“Do you want to go back to bed?” he asks tentatively but you immediately shake your head.

“No, I won't be able to sleep anyway.”

Joel gives a small grumble at that, deep in his throat. It almost sounds like disappointment. “You didn't sleep?”

You sigh a little, again shaking your head. “Maybe a bit. I'm not sure.” After a moment, you add, “My brain feels all weird today.”

He nods, slowly taking a step forward and wrapping an arm around you. “Your brain is allowed to feel a bit weird today, all things considered.” For a few moments, you both just stay like that, his hand trailing over your back, rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. His eyes fall to your legs, both noticeably banged up from your fall yesterday.

“Does it still hurt?” he mutters, tilting his head to get a better look.

“It's just a scratch.” When Joel reaches out to touch the small band-aid he insisted on putting onto your knee last night, you take a step back, causing him to freeze in his tracks.

“I’m fine. I'll go and read.”

Joel gives you a few minutes by yourself before he follows you into the living room, placing two mugs of coffee and some crackers on the table before sitting down on the couch. You're curled up on the armchair, only a few steps away from the front door, occasionally casting a glance out of the window to your right. The darkness is slowly fading, dawn ruthlessly drawing closer.

You've picked up a book without really bothering to check what it is. The cover is made of cloth, the color slightly faded, but the texture feels intact. It's a comforting weight in your lap and an even better excuse to keep your eyes off Joel, hyperaware that he is still watching your every move.

You feel like you're back to square one, to the first time you stepped foot into his house. Being taken in and assessed, like a wounded animal. Checking the damage, weighing the options. Deciding whether or not it should be put out of its misery.

Joel leans forward a bit, reaching for a small piece of wood that sits among a few others on the table. Then, he gets out the whittling knife that he keeps in the pocket of his jeans and begins to chip away.

Even with his eyes focused on the work in front of him, he can tell you're not really reading, your gaze unmoving. You haven't turned the page in at least ten minutes. But he knows not to push. He's content to sit here and wait by your side.

The silence during the next hours is only broken by the small sounds coming from Joel whittling. The small piece of wood he fetched before dawn has turned into the shape of an animal, continuously getting more clear as he works on it. You've put the book down an hour ago, giving up on pretending to read and instead just switching between staring at Joel's hands or into space.

You're certain it's the worst you've ever felt. Sitting and waiting, with the prospect of the letter of a dead girl being delivered today. The impatience drives you out of your seat, makes you pace, first in front of the fireplace, then behind the couch. Back and forth. You try counting the floorboards below you. There are twenty-seven, spanning through the entire room. You step on each one, avoiding the cracks in between. You sit back down. You curl up deeper into your armchair, staring out of the window.

You see him coming down the street before he sees you. When Tommy steps onto the porch, the door is already ajar, your form half hiding behind it. You don't notice the sad smile he sends you. Instead, your eyes are glued to the small paper envelope in his hand.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Joel says quietly from behind you, gently moving you to the side in order to let his brother enter.

Tommy awkwardly stands in the small hallway for a moment before holding out the envelope. He clears his throat. “Reckon you’ve been waiting for this.”

You nod automatically, taking the piece of paper from him with a gentle motion and then immediately clutching it to your chest. Tommy’s eyes fly from you to Joel, his eyebrow raising just a tiny bit.

“Right,” Joel mutters, nodding into the direction of the kitchen. “Why don’t you grab some coffee?” You hear Tommy move further into the house while your fingers are caressing the envelope, staring at the letters on it that form your name.

“Do you want me to stay with you while you—” Joel gestures towards the letter. He watches your face closely as you shake your head.

“No. I need to do this alone I think.”

“Okay. We’ll be right here if you need anything,” Joel mumbles quietly and reassuringly pats your back before he follows Tommy into the kitchen, leaving you standing in the hallway with a heavy feeling in your chest and the words of a dead girl in your hands.

***

You sit down on the bed, your entire body seemingly numb as you open the envelope and stare at the paper in your hands, filled with the smooth and playful handwriting you've come to recognize so easily.

I know you will not understand this,

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your hands from shaking so much that you can’t make out the words on the page. You already know what's coming and still you dread hearing the words in your head.

but I have decided to end my own life.

You stare at them for a moment. Trying to take them in, weighing them in your mind, trying to understand. But there is no understanding inside of you. Not for this.

I love you so incredibly much. I loved living with you and our time in Jackson was among the best I've had. I’m sorry to be the one to cut it short.

A dull pain throbs in your chest. You ignore it.

You deserve good things. But I know not many have been handed to you so far. I wish I could've been the one to give them to you.

Please do not blame yourself. This was my decision. I promise I’m at peace now.

Her words make you want to scream and cry and curl up into a ball and never speak to anyone ever again and do nothing but wait for Lane to come back.

Instead, you just quietly hold the letter a little higher to avoid your tears staining the paper.

I know you came to Jackson looking for something. I really do hope you find it.

I wish you the most wonderful life.

I love you, forever.

Lane

***

“I don’t like this,” Joel mutters, his fingers anxiously tapping the counter he’s leaning on. His glance keeps wandering to the doorway, half expecting you to come running in at any moment and bury yourself in his arms. But there is no noise from upstairs, the only sounds in the old house being those of the clock on his kitchen wall and Tommy’s occasional small sighs.

“She shouldn't be alone,” he insists, unsure if he's actually talking to his brother or to himself.

“She's not alone, in a way,” Tommy says quietly. He's staring into his mug, clearly deep in thought as well. “In a way—” He shakes his head. “She's having her last moments with Lane.”

“Oh, gimme a break.” Joel groans, his right hand flying up to pinch his nose. “Do you realize how messed up that is? Leaving her a letter, with no chance to ever reply? The poor girl can’t sleep, she’s not eating—I ain’t trying to talk badly about Lane, god knows she was a sweet girl and I’m sure she had her issues—but she shouldn’t be putting ‘em on someone else just cause she feels like she can.”

At that, Tommy looks up, surveying his brother. All the softness has left his tone, replaced by a harshness that carries a tinge of accusation.

“Are you really the one to judge this?”

“Tommy-” Joel's voice has dropped a good bit too, making him sound like a growling dog. For a split moment, it feels like they’re back to their time before the QZ, back to the fights and the constant tension.

Joel drops his arm, waving his hand slightly. “This ain’t like that.”

“Bullshit.” Tommy gets up so suddenly that Joel startles slightly, but the younger Miller brother just gives a dry laugh and reaches to pour himself more coffee. “Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna hit you, old man.”

The quiet is broken by the small trickle of the coffee. Tommy glances towards Joel's mug to find it empty. “You want another cup?”

“Yes, please,” Joel mumbles, watching as Tommy pours the rest of the brown liquid into his mug. He places the kettle back on the stove before pausing.

“It is exactly like that, Joel. Now I ain’t saying I agree with what she did. But ‘t was her choice. Ain’t nothing we—” He nods towards the ceiling. “—or her can do about that.”

A small groan escapes Tommy’s lips as he sits back down at the kitchen table, stretching his legs. “Talking about it. How’s she been?”

Joel considers his words for a moment. “Bad. I don't know.” His gaze flies to the doorway again, each minute ticking by making him more restless.

“I talked to Maria this morning. Word should’ve reached everyone by now. The whole town is- they're in shock. Everyone’s devastated.” Tommy keeps his eyes on Joel as he takes a sip of his coffee, taking in his brother's silence.

“D’you think she knew? That Lane was gonna—”

“No.” The answer shoots out of Joel's mouth before he can even consider it. Did you know? Or at least had an idea that something was happening under the surface? He hasn't even thought to ask, not with everything that's been going on.

“It’s just that, with this sort of thing, folks will ask questions—”

“Yeah, well, they won't be asking her any.” Joel suddenly feels like the room is much too small for him and Tommy. He’s dimly aware that this is technically not his job—that you're an adult and not his responsibility, that he should leave the decisions to you—but then he remembers the way you looked on his bathroom floor last night, dry heaving and sobbing so hard he was sure you were gonna pass out from the lack of oxygen.

“She ain’t ready for that.”

Tommy nods, finally averting his gaze. He knows this tone, the slight edge in it. It means there will be no further discussion and he's not keen to push for a fight in the current situation. He finishes his mug, draining it of the last drops.

“There's one more thing. Lane’s mother wants a proper burial. We've been talking to Eugene about it and—” He clicks his tongue a little as he shakes his head. “With the ground frozen over like that, there's no way to dig a grave.”

It's something Joel already should’ve considered. He's been around long enough to know these things, having dug more than enough graves himself. It was hard labor under the best of conditions. But plainy impossible during the Wyoming winter.

He's not sure why, when he knows all this, Tommy’s words strike him so hard. The girl who hasn’t made it to twenty-six is not even gonna get a grave.

***

You probably should be breaking down. Screaming or sobbing, hell, maybe throwing up again. Surely your body shouldn’t be so still, quiet, small breaths entering your lungs. Surely you should've stopped breathing by now.

But the body is relentless. It will keep you alive as long as it can, despite the thoughts in your head and the grief that seems to spin a cocoon around you, cutting you off from the things that are right in front of you, making them seem miles and miles away.

You have no idea how long you’ve been sitting there when you stand up abruptly. You avoid reading the words again as you slip the letter back into its envelope and place it in the drawer of the nightstand Joel doesn't use.

You don't remember leaving the bedroom or walking down the wooden stairs. But somehow you're standing in the kitchen, with Joel kneeling in front of you. His right hand is intertwined with yours, his calloused fingers brushing past your knuckles and over the soft skin on the back of your hand. His thumb is gently massaging your palm, rubbing small circles into it.

You flinch a bit and, immediately, his features soften. “There you are. Can you hear me?” You manage a shaky nod.

“Good,” Joel praises quietly, still keeping up the circular motions on your skin. “You doin’ real good, darlin’. Now, do you know where you are?”

Your eyes leave him and fly around the room. Joel's kitchen looks exactly how you remember it, with the addition of two empty mugs standing next to the sink. You recognize the one with the owl painted on it as his. Maybe the other is yours, but you can’t recall drinking anything.

“Hm?” Joel hums quietly.

“We’re in your kitchen.” Relief floods Joel's face at that and he nods a little more eagerly. “That’s right. Think you can help me and sit down right there?” He jerks his head into the direction of the small table below the window and begins to move, very slowly pulling you along by your hand.

You pause just as you reach the table. “What time is it?”

Joel turns his head, squinting at the clock at the opposite wall. “Half past ten.” He tugs on your hand again. “Come on, sit down.”

But you are moving in the opposite direction, taking a step back. “I have to go and teach.”

Joel sighs but his voice stays patient. “Honey, you’re on leave, okay? You’re in no state to be teaching. Now come here.”

It’s the quiet, added “Please.” that makes you do as told.

A steaming mug is placed in front of you shortly after. “Made you some tea. Just be careful, ‘t’s still hot.” Your hands are close enough to feel the heat radiating off it and, slowly, you think you are coming back to yourself. Or rather, to the house you’re sitting in.

The cocoon is still there, so is the faulty wire. But they seem to hit you in waves rather than a constant state of anxiety. Somehow, that is worse. You could get used to a metaphorical limp, one that is a constant. But the waves make you feel like you’re drowning in them. If you could only take a deep breath before they come, fill your lungs with the air you need so urgently. But they hit you out of nowhere. You never see them coming.

Joel sighs a little, nudging the mug towards you. “Come on, at least try it.”

“I still have a mug of coffee in the living room,” you suddenly remember. You can’t recall whether or not you drank any of it.

“Honey, that was cold hours ago,” Joel says carefully. “The tea is still warm. Much better, right?”

You find that you can’t argue with that so you take a few, hesitant sips. The heat settles in your stomach. The tide is retreating. Breathing comes a little easier.

Maybe Joel feels the same or maybe he can just tell, somehow. But he too seems to relax a bit more as he watches you drink.

“It’s good,” you press out, craving words to fill the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Not those words.

You shake your head and are incredibly thankful when Joel doesn’t push it this time. Still, you can tell that he looks troubled. “Want me to do some talking instead?”

“Okay,” you mumble, carefully taking another sip of your tea as you wait for him to speak.

“I talked to Tommy earlier, ‘bout some stuff regarding her—‘nd the next few days. Everyone’s been real sad. We thought it may be—” He cringes at the next word. “Nice to have a wake. Give people a chance to say goodbye and grieve before we bury her.” “Okay.”

He sighs, his eyes searching yours. He considers for a moment whether or not he should go on, explain that the burial can’t happen for a while, at least not with a body being put into the ground. Joel opens his mouth—and sees how much you seem to have aged in just a day.

He stays quiet.

Somehow, he gets you through the day. It’s late afternoon when a groan escapes Joel as he sits down on the couch. His back hurts and his head hurts and he is so goddamn tired. He hasn’t slept a second, having been too worried that you could wake up before him and sneak off.

He leans back into the soft fabric, stretching his legs slightly. You’re upstairs, taking a shower. Surely, it won’t hurt if he closes his eyes for just a minute.

***

It’s dark in the living room when Joel wakes again. The light that was streaming in through the windows earlier is gone and his heart rate instantly shoots up, the organ pumping wildly in his chest. He’s on his feet before his brain fully registers the situation. He moves quietly through the dark house, finding the kitchen and dining room empty.

He’s lucky that his left ear is turned towards the hallway when a small noise travels down the stairs. Joel reaches the landing of the upper floor with his revolver drawn. A trail of dim light falls through a crack in the door to his workshop.

Without making a noise, he pushes it open—and all tension immediately leaves his body. You’re perched on the stool he usually occupies, on the far corner of the tables that are arranged below the windows in an L-shape. The typewriter he’s been meaning to fix sits in front of you.

Joel tucks the gun back into his jeans as he opens the door further. The small creak, combined with the noise of footsteps, catches your attention and suddenly, Joel finds you turning towards him. He raises his hands slightly as he crosses the room. “Sorry. I fell asleep.”

“I know. I didn't want to wake you. You seemed really tired.” Joel stops right behind you, a small grumble escaping his throat as he strains his neck to see what you’re working on.

“You should wake me up,” he says quietly, his eyes wandering over the stack of paper and the tools scattered around the typewriter. “What are you doing?”

It's your turn to sigh, raising your shoulders a bit and letting them fall again after a moment. “I wanted to write a speech. For the service.” You can hear Joel swallow behind you.

“That's a nice idea. You sure you're up for it though?”

“Yeah, I’m—It’s okay. Or it would be, if this thing worked,” you groan, reaching for the screwdriver you’d put down when he joined you.

“Been meaning to fix it for a while. I can do it tomorrow if you like. Or now, if it’s urgent,” Joel mutters, taking another small step towards you, one hand placed on your back. He’s close enough that you can smell his body wash. His free hand, the one that had been closed around a gun less than a minute ago, moves over your shoulder and carefully pries the tool out of your hand.

“It’s late. You should get some sleep, at least.” It’s so caring that, again, you don’t find it in you to protest.

“Okay.”

A small, sad smile plays around Joel’s lips at that. He puts the screwdriver down, his form hovering above yours a split moment longer than necessary. Then, he leans forward and places a small kiss on the crown of your head.

“Come on. Off to bed.”

“Can I have a drink before we go?” If the question startles him, he doesn’t let it show.

“Yeah. Sure,” he says quietly. “Believe it or not, I was about to suggest that myself. You like whiskey, right?”

You’re content to find, half an hour later, that with your throat and belly warmed by the alcohol and the rest of your body warmed by Joel's form next to you, an arm draped around your shoulder as he pulls you into his chest, the waves that you could feel crashing in on you earlier seem to stay away. At least for the night.

if you enjoyed the chapter, please consider reblogging/sharing or commenting, i promise it will be the highlight of my day <3

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